Blood and Bondage - Annalynne Russo

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2012 Annalynne Russo

ISBN: 978-1-77130-119-0

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorizedreproduction or distribution of thiscopyrighted work is illegal. No part ofthis book may be used or reproducedelectronically or in print without writtenpermission, except in the case of briefquotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names,characters, and places are fictitious. Anyresemblance to actual events, locales,organizations, or persons, living or dead,is entirely coincidental.

BLOOD AND BONDAGE

Tales from the VampireScribe, 3

Annalynne Russo

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

The Nuptials

Oliver stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. His nervousfingers fumbled with the bowtie he’d triedto fasten around his neck for the past tenminutes. Once he finally got it into place,he turned to the side to stare at his profile.

In a few months’ time, he’d shed morethan forty pounds and replaced it withlean, well-defined muscle. He had nochoice. His best friend and colleague, EvaSambucco, had ordered him to drop thedead weight.

“If you want to walk me down theaisle, you’ll need to lose the doughboycenter,” Eva had said, mocking him with ajab to the gut. The sassy vampire huntresspulled no punches when it came to herupcoming nuptials. In a scene straight outof one of those neurotic, ego-boostingreality shows, Eva had placed her handson her hips and demanded that Oliverendure a total body makeover. A host ofnon-negotiables had to be met. Everythingfrom a pair of new-fangled disposablecontact lenses to a shopping spree to

breathe life back into his outdatedwardrobe was in order.

Oliver had to admit, he lookedpretty dapper in his brand new duds. But,he wondered, was the huntress reallymaking him go through a completemetamorphosis simply to look fashionablefor her wedding? Or was it an attempt tospiffy up her boss to help him land a bedpartner? After all, once she and Andreassaid their “I do”s Oliver would be left tofend for himself. Having worked togetherside by side for the past six years, Evaknew him better than most. She had first-hand knowledge when it came to hispersonal life. Truth be told, he hadn’t beenon a date in years, let alone spent anevening in the arms of a willing woman.

As the counsel general for the

Bureau of Paranormal Affairs, or BPA asit was often referred to, Oliver Polinksihad no time for romance. Work was hislife. He spent his days and nights leading acadre of deadly assassins trained tovanquish evil from the streets andalleyways of the Big Apple. Aninternational organization created topolice supernatural beings, the emissariesof BPA hunted down and killed everythingfrom ghosts and goblins to vampires andwerewolves.

Oliver wasn’t a killer; he was acommander who masterfully orchestratedhis troops. They carried out a multitude oftasks that proved necessary in order tokeep people safe from the bad guys.Believe it or not, New York City wascrawling with creatures of the night.

Vampires just happened to be the worstoffenders, their proclivity for sucking lifeout of innocent, unassuming victims theleast of their many indiscretions. Oliver’sjob was to make sure bloodsuckers didn’tcross the line. The few that did ended upon the wrong end of a sharp wooden stake.

Unfortunately, his number oneassassin’s upcoming wedding to avampire no less, had thrown a curve ballinto his unwavering code of ethics.Vampires were predators, murderingmembers of the human race in exchangefor their own selfish survival instinct. Orat least so he thought up until Eva hadfallen head over heels for the head of thelocal coven. On top of that, she was threemonths pregnant with his spawn. At first,that fact had turned his stomach and made

Oliver’s fingers itch to yank the son of abitch’s heart from his chest. But once he’dgotten to know him, Andreas Kristopoloushadn’t turned out to be too bad of afellow. As long as he treated Eva rightand kept the city’s vampire population incheck, the two men had no beef. If only hecould convince the rest of his team to keeptheir cool. Needless to say, they weren’thappy about one of their own changingsides.

Oliver scrubbed his fingers throughhis hair, and shook off the painful knot ofnerves that had formed between hisshoulder blades. He slipped on his loafersand headed down the stairs of the oldVictorian house to the waiting taxi. Pullingup the sleeve of his tuxedo jacket, he readthe time on his watch. Six thirty. He had

exactly half an hour to get from LongIsland to Manhattan in time for theceremony scheduled for sunset.

Shit! Eva will kill me if I’m late.The huntress had little family to speak of.They were a lot alike in that regard.Therefore, Oliver had no recourse but toshow up on time.

“Step on it, my good man,” Oliversaid to the cab driver. “I’ll pay youdouble.”

As soon as the car pulled up in frontof the church, Oliver hopped out. He wasalready ten minutes late. He’d be lucky ifEva didn’t shoot him on sight for his lackof punctuality. He swung open the heavywooden doors of St. Patrick’s Cathedraland crossed the threshold; his shiny shoesreverberated against the lustrous marble

floor. Oliver glanced up, taking in thescene for the briefest of moments. Thewalls were adorned with vibrantreligious-inspired frescos painted in therenaissance style. Elaborate candlelittorches hung from the edge of the pews,surrounded by bunches of red and ivoryroses.

Andreas waited next to the altar,nervously tapping his fingers against hisforearms. The frown on the groom’s facewas proof enough that his bride was readyto tear her boss limb from limb. One of theushers, a fellow BPA agent by the name ofAdam Sapien, greeted him at the door andled them down a corridor to the left of thechurch’s main entrance.

“Hurry up, boss,” Adam said.“Eva’s about to blow a gasket.”

The minute Oliver rounded thecorner, Eva turned to face him. It didn’ttake a mind reader to discern the huntress’mood. Disapproval marred her olivecomplexion, evident by the pouty lowerlip and irritated scowl splashed acrossher face.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m late. Blameit on the insufferable traffic,” he said,raising his palms to the air in a gesture ofdefeat. Eva stared at him from across theroom as if scrutinizing his sincerity. Then,a grin spread across her perfectly-polished features. Oliver smiled back, andtook in the woman’s breathtaking beauty.The fitted, mermaid-style wedding dressshe wore clung to her curvaceous hips. Itfanned out just above the ankles, andstreamed behind her like a wave of

luxurious white silk. Eva’s plentiful, yetdemure bosom peeked over the edge of thegown’s crystal-embellished bodice.Tendrils of wispy, dark-brown haircascaded over her shoulders and down theslender column of her throat. She glowedluminously with the roundness of herpregnant, yet barely noticeable belly.

“Are you ready to proceed?” Oliverasked, the hint of his Eastern Europeanaccent impossible to miss.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she said,reaching out to wrap a wrist around herboss’ outstretched elbow.

Arm in arm, they walked down theaisle. One side of the church appeared tobe packed with a horde of the undead,while the other was brimming with anarmy of eager vampire vigilantes.

Contrary to popular belief, supernaturalbeings had no problem stepping foot onholy ground. In fact, many of them werebred from Eastern European descent andhad used the Orthodox Church as a refugefrom their enemies.

Still, the tension in the room wasthick. It loomed above the crowd as if itwere a cumulous cloud ready to release atorrential downpour. Father Mancini stoodfirm by the altar, his demeanor serious andsomber, anticipating the imminent danger.Behind him the unsuspecting harpist sat ona cushiony stool strumming the chords ofthe Traditional Wedding March.

Poor thing. She had no idea of thedanger brewing in her midst.

Suddenly, Oliver felt a pair of eyestrained on him; his highly-tuned sixth

sense screamed in ominous warning. Hescanned the pews in search of the culprit,but to no avail. Then, he heard a melodicfeminine voice whisper in his ear. He’dgrown accustomed to hearing softmurmurs in his head, but this one camethrough loud and clear. Its hauntingsoprano pitch made one side of his jawtwitch unexpectedly, a nervous habit.

Who’s the George Clooney look-alike escorting Andreas’s bride? He’dmake for a tasty midnight snack.

Eva must have felt him stir. Shecocked her head and glanced up at him,her eyebrows furrowed in a question.“What’s the matter?” she mouthed thewords.

Oliver shook his head, shrugging offthe bitter taste that had risen up like bile

from the pit of his stomach. Sometimes,his mind reading ability turned out to be abloody nuisance.

In fact, looking over his shoulderhad become second nature to Oliver. Bornin Poland to a Jewish father and gypsymother shortly after the end of Hitler’sreign of terror, his family was used tobeing treated like second-class citizens.Many of them had perished at the hands ofthe Nazis. Even before that, his ancestorshad been persecuted for far more thantheir religious beliefs.

Oliver’s mother, Svetlana, camefrom a band of Romanian travelersendowed with strong psychic abilities.Sometimes, she could also foretell eventsthat would come to pass in the future.Whether he liked it or not, Oliver Polinski

inherited his mother’s talents. He was agifted seer and telepath with an uncannyconnection to the supernatural world.

Whoever it was that had spoken tohim was giving off some potent vibes. Nodoubt, she was an ancient and powerfulvampire. Only a pureblood, or a directdescendent of one, possessed such astrong ability to project rambling thoughts.Luckily, most of the vamps he’d metweren’t able to hear his own innerdialogue. That phenomenon rarelyoccurred, and when it did, it oftenfollowed an exchange of blood.

Oliver jerked his head in thedirection of the sound of the voice,examining the expressions of each one ofthe wedding guests until he spotted thesensual siren whose words had been

broadcast so clearly across the expanse ofthe chapel. This particular bloodsuckerwas more than just another pretty face; shewas stunning. A mass of untamed curls thecolor of fire framed her high cheekbonesand upturned, aristocratic nose. Fromacross the rows of people, she appearedtall and thin, her body lithe and billowy.She had the subtle, yet sensual curves of adancer, although it was her amber eyesthat spoke volumes.

For a moment, their gazes locked.But once they’d reached the altar, thewoman’s focus turned to the bride andgroom, her enigmatic stare glowing brightagainst the backdrop of the dim, candlelitsanctuary. Entranced by her captivatingbeauty, Oliver couldn’t look away. Histhroat went dry. He licked his lips and

readjusted himself, feeling the slight bulgein his trousers.

Eva cleared her throat, bringingOliver back to the festivities at hand.After all, it was her wedding. Shedeserved to be the center of attention.With an extravagant reception to follow atthe Four Seasons Hotel, he knew it wouldbe a long night. From the look she’d shothim, the sexy, red-headed vampire in thecrowd would not only preoccupy histhoughts for the next few hours, she’d soonmake a hostile attempt to take control ofhis body. Raging hormones and all.

Chapter Two

Two to Tango

In an instant, the bustling partyguests grew quiet, lulled into silence bythe impassioned undertones of a sensualsamba. The long, drawn out notes of thetrombone and the rich, melodic cadence ofthe saxophone had Anaïs swaying her hipsfrom left to right. She couldn’t helpherself. Music had been engrained in hersoul and dancing was but an extension ofher vibrant, colorful personality.

As she watched husband and wifeglide across the dance floor for the firsttime, their bodies entwined in a lasciviousdisplay of mutual admiration, Anaïs’s feetyearned to twist and twirl around theroom. Although no matter how much herbody screamed at her to take center stageand show every miserable bastard in theroom how to truly dance the samba, sheignored the underlying impulse. Instead,her legs remained firmly planted to theshiny, wooden floors. Stubborn andspoiled, she was used to doing as shepleased, so maintaining her composurewasn’t as easy as it seemed. In fact, itproved damn near impossible.

In order to bide her time and givethe newlyweds their moment in thespotlight, Anaïs searched the room to find

a willing dance partner: one whowouldn’t mind if she nibbled on his neck,or took a taste of his succulent, life-givingblood. Where was that hunky, well-agedbeefcake she’d spotted earlier in thechurch? Truth be told, Anaïs had a thingfor refined, older gentlemen. As avampire, she’d preyed on their kind forcenturies.

God knows, I’ve got serious daddyissues. Nonetheless, Anaïs had alwaysbeen drawn to mature men, even beforeshe’d ripped her father’s still-beatingheart from his sternum.

A classically-trained ballerina bornin the seventeenth century, Anaïs had beenraised by strict, aristocratic parents duringthe French court of Louis XVI. Destined todance with the famous Academie Royale

de Danse troupe, her hopes had soon beendashed by a manipulating charlatan whostole her chance at stardom. As a result,Anaïs held a bit of a grudge against men,especially the ruthless, domineering type.

On the eve of her sixteenth birthday,she had fallen victim to the greedy, sexualappetites of the Archduke of Auvergne,one of her father’s wealthy co-conspirators. Instead of defending hisdaughter’s honor, Anaïs’s father disownedher, leaving her to a life of servitude as ascullery maid under the king’s employ.

Destitute and distraught, Anaïs hadbegged her closest friend, ChristineRenoir, to whisk her away from Paris. Thetwo girls had been practically attached atthe hip since Anaïs’s family had arrived atcourt two years earlier. She had come to

join the ranks of the Academie, yet herparents held other, less adventurousaspirations. After all, it was customary forfamilies with daughters coming of age totake up residency in the French court inthe hopes of securing a husband.

Too bad I had other plans.Christine, on the contrary, had long

desired to find true love. Engaged to oneof the king’s cronies, a wealthy Greekmerchant by the name of AristotleKristopolous, her friend planned torelocate to Athens, and Anaïs had everyintention of accompanying the newlybetrothed couple.

“Before I agree to take you with me,I must tell you something,” Christine’sblonde hair and pale features had turnedashen as she spoke. She swallowed hard.

Anaïs watched the other woman’s throatmove as saliva slide down her esophagus.“What I’m about to admit, might make youchange your mind.”

“I highly doubt that. What could beworse than a life as a lowly servant?”

Christine’s lips pursed togetherhesitantly; her expression had turnedsomber. “Anaïs, I’m a vampire. I know itsounds farfetched, but it’s true. Like myparents and their parents before them, Iconsume human blood in order tosurvive.”

“Ha ha. Nice try, but you won’tscare me off so easily,” Anaïs had said,chuckling as she pivoted on her heels andpaced the expanse of her bed chamber.“I’m going with you to Athens, come hellor high water.”

When she finally spun back around,Anaïs couldn’t believe what she saw. Herfriend’s face had changed, transformedinto a twisted, disfigured mask of horror.Her elegant visage had morphed into thatof a frightful, menacing beast with glaringred eyes. The edge of her upper lip curledup into a sneer, revealing a row of sharp,serrated teeth. She let out a growl, thesound like that of an angry, wounded wildanimal.

Anaïs reared back instinctively, theslender column of her spine pressed flushagainst the cool, stone wall of hersleeping quarters. Her mouth formed an“O” as her eyes sprang open in shock. “Ohdear Lord,” was all she could muster.

After a few moments, Christine’shorrifying countenance had receded, her

beautiful, waxen complexion returning toits former glory. She frowned, thenslipped an elegant finger into her mouthand chewed on the edge of a long,manicured nail.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frightenyou. But it was the only way I could thinkof to get you to believe me.”

Once Anaïs’s heart had sunk backinto her chest, Christine shared herfamily’s secret. They were vampires, bredfor a line of powerful purebloods. Unlikethe whispered reports of humans that hadbeen turned by the seductive lure of theundead, Christine had been born, notmade; her parents spawned from one ofthe three original families that had offeredup their souls to Lucifer in exchange forimmortality.

For Anaïs, the idea of living foreverdidn’t seem like much of a curse. Not onlycould she exact revenge of her despicablefather, but she could spend eternity makingruthless, womanizing playboys pay forindiscretions with their very lives. She’dbegged Christine to convert her, eager toretaliate against those who had done herwrong.

Unfortunately, longevity came witha price. Along with eternal life, Anaïsinherited a deep-seeded propensity forhate and an uncanny ability to hide heremotions behind the ruse of a beguilingtemptress.

To Anaïs, control became an elixirmore addictive than human blood. Inparticular, she relished her power overmen. In her first few years as a vampire,

she preyed on chauvinistic bastards whodelighted in taking advantage of enamoredyoung maidens. Nowadays, she preferredto spend her time wooing more culturedLotharios. Perhaps because they remindedAnaïs of her father and how easily she’dbeen able to rob him of his miserable life.

During the last century Anaïs hadmostly kept to herself. She’d grown tiredof the cat and mouse game that provednecessary to prolong her existence. Still,she found that she was drawn to older menand tended to search them out when theneed for sustenance called. They seemedto succumb to her powers of persuasionquite easily, their fragile psyches eager tosubmit to her will. On top of that, the tasteof their aged blood turned her on likenobody’s business. Tonight she had her

sights set on the man who’d given awaythe bride, if only she could find him.

The samba had ended and soon, abevy of beautiful people stepped out ontothe dance floor, most of them vampires.Like many of the undead, Anaïs came intotown to celebrate the nuptials of her latefriend Christine’s only child, AndreasKristopolous. More than a hundred andfifty years ago, he’d been christened hergodson. The poor chap had exchangedvows with Eva Sambucco, one of NewYork City’s premier vampire hunters.

Instead of sipping fine champagneand dancing up a storm, the BPA agentsthe bride worked with stood guard aroundthe room’s perimeter, their piercing staresalert and vigilant. Waiting for one of herkind to step out of line, they tried their

best to appear inconspicuous, yetintimidating.

As if they could stop us if wedecided to feast on their blood. Anaïscanvassed the room, hoping to locate theman she searched for amongst their ranks.

Suddenly, the hairs on the back ofAnaïs’s neck rose on end. Her skin beganto tingle as goose bumps broke out allover. She heard someone clear a throatbehind her. It was a gruff, masculinevocalization. The rich, baritone sound shotthrough her system like the rumble of adrum. Instinctively, she whirled around asthe man who had occupied her fantasiesfor the past few hours appeared beforeher. His broad shoulders and hauntingblue gaze loomed over her, as if ready toburn a hole through her soulless outer

shell.“Would you care to dance?” the

stranger asked, reaching to take hold ofher delicate wrist. She offered her hand tohim, in awe of the man’s handsome goodlooks and devilish smile. He lifted herflesh to his lips and planted a warm,gentle kiss. Anaïs felt his heated breathroll over her skin. It skated up her arm andover the valley of her bosom, causing hernipples to bead into tight pinpricks ofdesire. He glanced up, peering from left toright as if mimicking the shape of herdress’ heart-shaped bodice.

What the hell was I thinking wearingthis red, strapless get-up? I might as wellhave glued a target to my ass and stamped“Fuck me” on my forehead.

She hated the fact that with one,

simple kiss to her wrist, the man couldmake her breasts ache with need and herknees turn to gelatin. Yet instead ofappearing cocky and arrogant, he gave offa shy, unpretentious vibe that made Anaïsfeel relaxed. All warm and gooey inside.For that very reason, she’d let him live,albeit temporarily. Good thing, too. If he’dturned out to be another blusteringbrowbeat, she would have had no otherchoice but to steal his life essence anddrop his withering body in a dark cornerof the room.

“You sure you can handle me? I’vebeen known to beast it up on the dancefloor,” Anaïs said, flashing a glimpse ofher incisors.

The man shook his head, murmuringa slew of unintelligible words under his

breath before he spoke out loud. “I’vevanquished fiends more terrifying than youin my time. I promise, this’ll be a walk inthe park.” She gathered from his accentthat he had Eastern European roots.

Hmm. He knows what I am? Funny,he looks too studious to be one of BPA’sgood-for-nothing thugs.

Soon the music changed and theband started to play a sexy, slow-tempotango. It was the perfect tune to help reelin her prey. But before she’d even agreedto a dance, her companion reached out andgrabbed hold of her waist, yanking her tohis side. Pelvis to pelvis, their hipsundulated to the sounds of the sensual,rhythmic staccato, matching the thrum oftheir beating hearts. Her partner hadmoves, easily keeping up with Anaïs’s

unabashed attempt to ravage the dancefloor.

“My lady, you must tell me yourname.” Oliver pressed his lips to herearlobe. She shivered, while her fingerskneaded the short, wiry hairs at the baseof his skull.

“Anaïs Moreau. I’m a friend of thegroom’s mother,” she said, her voicebreathy and a bit labored from theirvigorous exercise. “And you?”

Her dance partner seemed none tooeager to divulge his personal information.Instead, he leaned over Anaïs, forcing herto arch her back as his imposing formcrowded her tiny, agile frame.Instinctively, she brought up her left leg,her thigh hugging his narrow waist.Gripping his bicep to maintain her

balance, she felt the corded musclesunderneath his tuxedo jacket. He was soclose; she could feel the evidence of hisdesire flush against her sex. Anaïsmoaned, unable to stifle her reaction asthey swayed to the beat of the music.

“My name’s Oliver. The brideworks for me,” he said as he left a trail offeather-light kisses to her bare neck andthroat.

“Oliver? As in Oliver Polinski, theBPA’s counsel general?”

“Yes, is that a problem?” He setAnaïs back on her wobbly feet. Suddenly,she felt dizzy. Light-headed.

Fuck! My taste in men sucks.

Chapter Three

Playing Nice

Oliver felt the woman in his armswaver. Her body grew limp. It wassurprising, given the sassy inner banterthat seemed to swirl around in her mind.Only moments before, the vixen had hersights set on seduction. Now she couldbarely stand on her own two feet. Was sheswooning from his stealthy moves on thedance floor or had he said or donesomething else to set her off kilter?

“Thirsty? Let’s have a seat and I’llget you something to drink.” Lucky forAnaïs, blood flowed plentifully at the bar,one of the many perks of attending awedding overrun with the undead. In fact,Eva had insisted that the acerbic redvintage be included on the menu. Sherefused to let her human guests fall victimto cocky bloodsuckers who couldn’t keepthemselves from gorging on fellowpartygoers.

Oliver set his dance partner downon a chair next to one of the squarebanquet tables, and headed for the bar. Heacknowledged the bartender, BobbyDuBois, with a nod of his head. Anothervampire.

God damn if the place isn’tcrawling with leeches.

Trying to remain cordial, Oliverplastered a fake smile on his face. Heordered a shot of whiskey, along with aglass of plasma for the woman, then madehis way back to her side. He handed herthe concoction and took a seat to her left.

“Thanks. I didn’t mean to freak outon the dance floor,” she said. “But it’s notevery day you meet the man responsiblefor your best friend’s murder.”

Oliver’s eyebrows sprang up inrealization. “Christine Kristopolous? Shewas nothing more than an innocentbystander. Her death proved unfortunate,but my guys had no other choice. She’dgotten caught in the cross-fire of amadman on a senseless killing spree.”

According to reports, Christine’sdeath was an accident, although Oliver

had been the one to order the hit. Surelythat’s the way Anaïs must have heard it.Andreas’s mother had left a board meetingat the MET, New York City’sMetropolitan Museum of Art. It wassituated along busyFifth Avenuein Manhattan, the same location whereOliver’s team had set up a sting. The sunbegan to set no more than an hour earlierand dusk had settled over the horizon.BPA agents were staked out in every nookand cranny of the street in search forJohann Rappel, the rogue vampireresponsible for a handful of cannibalisticmurders. With body parts strewn all overtown, Oliver’s troops had been standingby, waiting to catch the killer unaware andend his worthless existence.

Anaïs took a slow sip from thecocktail glass, then gawked at him as ifdumbfounded by the brutish, offhandcomment he’d made. “How can you saythat? From what I’ve heard, you gave yourman permission to pull the trigger.”

Oliver stared at his companion,sensing the grief and turmoil swirling inthe reflection from her golden brown orbs.Suddenly, guilt clawed its way up hisbelly and he frowned, ashamed at theobvious pain he’d caused her. He raisedhis hand, then tucked a stray red curlbehind her ear. As soon as his fingersbrushed the tender skin at her temple, hefelt Anaïs quiver. Strange. Had heinadvertently provoked fear in thepowerful vampire? It didn’t seempossible. Contempt maybe, but not fear.

He hated to admit it, although deep downinside he hoped her body’s unsolicitedreaction proved to be one of lustyanticipation. At least that way, hewouldn’t feel quite so awkward andalone.

Here I go again, showing myinexperience when it comes to theopposite sex.

“I’m sorry for your loss. From whatI hear, Christine was quite the woman.”

Anaïs opened her mouth to speak,although before she could utter a singleword, they were interrupted by the happycouple making the rounds from table totable in order to greet their invited guests.Andreas lifted Anaïs’s hand to his lipsand gifted her with a gentle kiss, whileEva came around and put her arm around

Oliver’s shoulder.“I see you two have already become

acquainted,” the huntress said, a crookedgrin crinkling up the corners of her mouth.Oliver knew that look; she was up to nogood. Then she turned to Anaïs. “It’s sonice to meet you. Andreas has told me alot about you.”

“Thank you. I can see that you bothlove each other very much. I’m sure hismother would be pleased that he’s finallydecided to settle down.”

“Well, Aunt Anaïs,” Andreas saidwith a reverent bow. “We should minglewith the rest of our family and friends.Are you planning to stay in town for awhile? Eva and I will be headed off onour honeymoon after the reception. We’vebeen working like mad the past few

months, so we’re taking an extended, two-week holiday.”

Anaïs glanced in Oliver’s direction,and then she shot him a wink. Her sad,sullen expression had completelyvanished. The smoldering look she flashedhim made his heart race and his cockbecome partially erect. “I was planning tocatch a flight back to Paris in the morning.But I could be persuaded to change mymind. I’ll keep you posted.”

There was a stilted silence betweenthem once the bride and groom had movedon. It seemed as if both of them sensed theundeniable attraction, yet ignored it, likethe proverbial elephant in the middle ofthe room. Oliver fidgeted in his chair,trying to think of something to say to breakup the monotony. He knew he should

simply walk away. No use in letting thempush each other’s sexual buttons whennothing substantial would ever become ofit. After all, the last thing he needed to dowas consort with the enemy.

Unfortunately, Anaïs’s luscious redlips and tight, rosebud nipples, visiblethrough the thin material of her dress, kepthis ass stuck to the seat. For the first time,he understood how men could beenthralled by the ethereal beauty andcaptivating charm of the undead. This onehad certainly caught him off guard. Sheleft him helpless under her spell. Oliverspent the last two decades planning covertops and ordering the cutthroat deaths ofcountless vampires. Yet with Anaïs, all heyearned to do was cup her breasts in hishands, and watch those pouty lips move up

and down his rigid shaft.Oliver felt his cock grow painfully

hard, the proof of his arousal once againnoticeable through his fitted trousers.Suddenly, his face grew warm withembarrassment as heat snaked its way uphis cheeks. Anaïs’s eyes skimmed over hisappearance, alternately moving betweenhis crotch and what he could only assumewas a beet red face. She giggled softly,then took his hand and pulled him to hisfeet.

“Come on, lover boy. Let’s godance before someone catches wind of theblood rushing through your veins and seesit as an invitation to dine.”

This time, the music wascontemporary – a slow, sensual LutherVandross ballad.

Now this is more my style, Anaïswhispered in her mind.

Soon their limber bodies weremolded together as one. With eachgraceful step, they glided seamlesslyacross the polished wood floor from oneend to the other. Their nimble feet barelytouched the ground. Elegant and flowing,they appeared to be floating, like twotranslucent spirits that had swept throughthe ballroom, trying their best to lookinconspicuous. Oliver had never been oneto draw attention to himself. Yet howcould anyone disregard the beauty at hisside? She was impossible to miss.

Their torsos were pressed achinglyclose, so much so that he could feel herhardened mounds against the broadmuscles of his chest. Anaïs’s hot breath

skirted down his neck. With the vivaciousbeauty so near, Oliver didn’t know quitewhat to do or say. Nervous as hell, he felta pool of sweat form along his spine asthey danced, cheek to cheek. His cock,however, seemed totally at ease, wantonlyrubbing against her inner thigh. The arm hekept draped over the vampire’s backitched to move lower, eager to graze theluscious curves of her ass. Although hehesitated, his lack of finesse when it cameto women stopped him dead in his tracks.

Keeping his desire on a tight leash,Oliver fisted his hand in the swath ofmaterial that had gathered in the naturalcurve of her spine. He leaned in, hisutterance raw and gruff. “So you likeLuther Vandross?” he asked, trying tomake casual conversation. “He’s one of

my favorites, as well.”All of a sudden, Anaïs’s movements

came to a standstill. She jerked her headback and cocked it to one side as ifperplexed. She squinted, her gazenarrowing in on Oliver. At the same time,her pliant curves became stiff and rigid inhis arms. “How did you know that? Inever…”

“I…um,” Oliver fumbled with thewords on the tip of his tongue. “I canread–”

Before he could finish the sentence,Anaïs’s raised her hand in the air, andwith a swift turn of the wrist, slapped himsquare across the jaw. The sting felt like amillion bees swarming over his flesh.

“You bastard! You’ve been readingmy mind this whole time, haven’t you?”

Anaïs’s irritated scowl proved that shecouldn’t possibly do the same. Goodthing, too. Oliver didn’t need a sexybloodsucker trying to pick his brain. Withher hands on her hips, she simply struttedaway, leaving him stranded in the middleof the dance floor with a roomful ofvampires ready to pounce.

Chapter Four

The Threat

It was well past three in the morningby the time Anaïs made it upstairs to hersuite at the Four Seasons Hotel. Afterleaving the reception, she’d taken sometime to search for sustenance, althoughnothing had piqued her thirst. Then, shemade a pit stop to the hotel bar anddowned a couple of cocktails. Vampiresdidn’t need to eat or drink, but after herconfrontation with Oliver, she’d hoped the

alcohol would help calm her rattlednerves. Eventually, the bartenderannounced it was last call and Anaïs hadno alternative but to head upstairs.

As she approached her room,thoughts of the BPA’s counsel general stillflashed through her mind. She wanted tostrangle him for delving into the depths ofher mind without permission. Anaïs didn’tshare that specific talent and therefore,couldn’t return the favor. In fact, OliverPolinksi had done more than read herthoughts. He’d left her feeling turned heron and pissed her off all at the same time,which was a first. So preoccupied, shehadn’t noticed that the door to her suitehad been set ajar, as if it had beentampered with. Had someone snuck intoher private quarters?

Hesitant to shove open the door onthe off chance that the burglars still lie inwait, Anaïs peered inside through a slightcrack in the frame. She could see the roomwas in shambles. Drawers full of clothinghad been emptied and strewn abouthaphazardly. The expensive artlithographs on the walls had been torn off,shredded into pieces, and littered acrossthe rug’s surface. With her ear plastered tothe wood, she listened for voices or thesound of movement, anything that wouldtell her if she needed to enter the roomwith fangs blazing. But she heard nothing.No one.

Anaïs sighed, then pushed open thedoor and crossed the threshold. A majorclean-up job hadn’t been on her agendafor the evening. Neither had spending the

night alone without a man to warm her bedand satisfy her need for sustenance. Yethere she stood. Unfortunately, OliverPolinski had screwed up her plans.

Oh hell! I’ve got nothing better todo. I might as well get startedstraightening up the place.

Picking up blankets from the floorand tossing pillows onto a nearby chair,Anaïs noticed a small photograph thatremained half-hidden underneath theupturned bedding.

Hmm. Where had that come from?She swooped it up off the ground

and examined it more closely. Suddenly,her eyes shot open; her stomach heaved atthe horrific scene depicted in the image. Ascantily-clad woman, a vampire asevidenced by the sharp incisor protruding

from the left side of her cheek, laydiscarded by a dumpster in what appearedto be a dark, deserted New York Cityalley. Her neck had been broken, twistedat an awkward angle with one of the frailcollar bones sticking out of the skin. Thebustier she wore seemed to be torn inshreds, her bosom flayed open by a jaggedgouge that had been cut against the grainfrom breastbone to rib cage. Her heartwas ripped from her body, and set on topof her distended abdomen.

The gut-wrenching spectacle causedAnaïs to double over into a ball on thefloor, overcome with nausea and utterdisgust. Sure, she’d killed victims in theheat of the moment, but nothing quite likethis. If she’d feasted earlier, the contentsof her stomach would no doubt cover the

rug in a blanket of blood.Unable to control her emotions,

Anaïs tossed the photograph on the bedand threw herself onto the mattress in aheap. She sobbed into her tremblinghands. Blood-streaked tears streameddown her cheeks and stained her red satingown. All alone in a strange town, she feltlost. The only people she trusted wereAndreas and his father, Aristotle, one ofwhom was likely on an airplane halfwayacross the globe. She had to tell them thata madman had somehow gained access toher room. But first, she needed to stop andthink. Who could be responsible for suchmasochistic cruelty? And why?

Anaïs only knew one man sickenough to mutilate and torture a femalewith such callous precision. It was the

same man who’d stalked her on and off formore than a century. Did he have theaudacity to follow her across the Atlantic?She sure as hell wouldn’t put it past him.The psycho had done everything fromsending her bouquets of dead, wiltedflowers to decapitating a kitten andleaving its severed head on her frontporch. But generally, he left a callingcard, some way of letting her know that hewas close. Anaïs stood up and searchedthe bed. Then, she snatched the photographhidden between the sheets, and turned itover to find a messy, handwritteninscription on the back.

Having fun in New York City, I see.Behave or there’s more where this

came from.

P.G.

Over the years, Pierre Gaucher hadproven to be quite the cunning adversary.He’d begun to court her at the end of thenineteenth century, during France’s BelleÉpoque, a time of great peace andprosperity in her homeland. The economicsuccess that had resulted from theinvention of steam-powered ships andrailways caused a social and culturalexplosion, especially in the forward-thinking capital of Paris. The arts once

again flourished, which had turned out tobe the perfect moment for a classically-trained ballerina like Anaïs to jump backinto the limelight.

Taking advantage of her talent andskill as a dancer, Anaïs soon became oneof the principal courtesans at MoulinRouge, a well-known cabaret in theParisian district of Pigalle on Boulevardde Clichy. Each evening at sundown,she’d pretty herself up, walk out onto thestage in costume, and put on an elaboratecircus-like extravaganza for the crowd.Her most famous role had been that ofCleopatra in the Bal de Quat’zarts, anumber in which she was surrounded by aharem of young, naked women. At thetime, it had incited quite the scandal, andAnaïs had relished every minute of it.

Pierre lived in a lavish mansion onthe outskirts of Paris. Bred from oldEuropean stock, he was fabulouslywealthy and arrogant as the devil himself.Like most men of royal lineage, his titlehad afforded him both the means andopportunity to do anything he damn wellpleased. Soon after their courtshipcommenced, Anaïs became aware of eachand every one of her lover’s vices. Hegambled like crazy, drank more than hisshare of alcohol, and dabbled in opiumand other hallucinogenic drugs. He was aself-professed wild child. In fact, Pierrereminded her quite a bit of her youngerself.

In need of company after livingalone for nearly two centuries, Anaïschose to disregard the seedier side of

Pierre. Evil was inherent in him, obviousby his dark, obsidian eyes and the wickedgrin he’d sport as he watched Anaïs feedoff helpless human inhabitants. He was avoyeur and loved it when she’d pick uphandsome men, get them off, and thendrain them dry. It seemed to thrill him.Before long, he’d duped her into turninghim into a vampire with some sob storyabout the two of them living happily everafter.

Big mistake!Other than her father, Anaïs had

never met a more conniving bastard in herlife. Realizing her error in judgment, thetwo of them had parted ways a short timeafter the conversion. Ever since, she’ddone her best to steer clear of Pierre. Theway Anaïs saw it, she had two choices.

She could either end his life or avoid himentirely, and quite frankly, Pierre wasn’tworth the time or energy it would take herto kill him.

Anaïs harbored no fear when itcame to Pierre; he simply gave her thecreeps. After they broke up, she mostlykept to herself. She’d lost her patiencewhen it came to men.

But like the plague, Pierre was hardto elude, especially when they both stillhad roots in the City of Lights. A shivershot down Anaïs’s spine as she thoughtabout all the brutal murders he’dcommitted over the years.

Not wanting to lose her nerve, shepicked up the phone and dialed Aristotle’stelephone number. Dawn would soonapproach and she prayed he hadn’t gone to

bed already. Luckily, he answered on thefirst ring. He didn’t sleep much just asshe’d remembered.

“Good morning my dear,” his frailvoice came through the receiver. At nearlya thousand years old, the offspring of oneof the original vampire families wasconsidered ancient. Anaïs knew the oldman didn’t have much time left, especiallyafter suffering a broken heart as a result ofhis wife’s untimely death. “I see you’restill awake.”

“Sorry to disturb you. Something’shappened,” she said, trying to keep herpitch calm. “Can you loan me a few ofyour security people?”

“Why? What seems to be theproblem?”

Anaïs closed her eyes and took a

deep breath, then proceeded to explain theevents that had unfolded after she returnedto her suite. It was hard, considering shewas used to fending for herself. Her initialinstinct had been to catch the first flight toParis. She hated having to rely on the cloutof the Kristopolous family to protect herfrom a perverse stalker. Yet withoutknowing the terrain or having access toconnections from back home, she hadnowhere else to turn. She realized thatAristotle’s first move would be to contacthis son. It didn’t matter that he was on hishoneymoon. As the head of the New YorkCity coven, Andreas had a right to fulldisclosure.

Anaïs hung up the phone andcontinued to tidy up the disheveled room.A few minutes later, her cell phone

chimed, letting her know a call wascoming through.

Fuck! It’s Andreas.Before she could even say ‘hello,’

he shouted in her ear. Through the static ofhis satellite phone, she could hear thebarely-leashed anger loud and clear.“Listen. I know this is the last thing youwant to hear right now, but I’m sendingsome BPA muscle your way. If a vampireis responsible for this threat, I want all theammunition we can get. Do I make myselfclear?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Youwant a vampire assassin to protect me?They’re our enemies, or have youforgotten?”

“No, I haven’t forgotten. But Eva’sfriends have got skill and firepower on

their side. They’ll be able to track downthe son of a bitch quicker than my mencould. And this one’s got a helluva lot ofballs coming after my family,” Andreassaid. Half a second later, the phoneconnection was severed.

****As soon as he received word from

Eva, Oliver jumped to his feet. She’dgotten a call from her father-in-law abouta rogue vampire on the loose, a cold,calculating killer who took it upon himselfto slice and dice his own kind. Grabbinghis coat off the rack by the door, he rushedout of the house and hopped into thepassenger side of the black Range Rover.

Adam Sapien, one of his most reliableagents, sat behind the wheel.

One thing was for certain – Oliverwasn’t looking forward to coming face toface with Anaïs again. Not after the whaleof a slap she landed on his cheek the nightbefore. But true to form, Oliver was asucker for a damsel in distress, even ifsaid damsel turned out to be a beautifulbloodsucker.

“Boss, we’ve got a tail. A dark bluesedan about four cars behind ours,” Adamsaid as he revved the car’s engine.

“Easy on the gas pedal,” Oliver toldhim, placing a firm hand on the steeringwheel. “We don’t want to tip him off. Putin a call to central command and givethem our coordinates and a description ofthe vehicle. They’ll take it from there.”

“Sure thing.”By the time the Range Rover pulled

into the underground parking structure ofthe hotel, the blue sedan that had beenfollowing them had disappeared. Exitingthe car, they took the service elevator tothe thirteenth floor. It led them straight toAnaïs’s room.

Oliver had hoped she’d left thecrime scene intact, but when they arrivedon her doorstep, it seemed as if she’dbeen hard at work putting things back intotheir original locations.

Of course! Once she heard I washeaded to her hotel room, I’m notsurprised she tried her best to screw upthe investigation.

“I told Andreas not to call you,” shesaid, ushering them in with a reluctant

wave of her hand. “It’s best if the covenhandle this privately.”

“Adam, get started. Give me acomplete forensic work up of the room. Iwant to know everything about this guy,including his shoe size and what type ofaftershave he wears.” Oliver ignored hercomment, his eyes searching the suite forclues. “Where’s the photograph?”

Anaïs pointed to one of the dresserdrawers. “It’s in there.”

Slapping on a pair of rubber gloves,he gently pried open the drawer andpulled out the picture. He held the imageup to the light and stared at it, then turnedit over and read the intimate messageinscribed on the back. Suddenly, his eyeswidened in acknowledgment.

“You know this guy?”

“Yes, we’re fairly wellacquainted,” she said, wringing her handstogether as if nervous. “Although it’s beenyears since I’ve seen him. At least five,I’d say. But that’s not surprisingconsidering I don’t leave my apartmentmuch, unless in search of food. Even then,I stay close to home.”

Oliver scrubbed his hand over hisfive o’clock shadow. He was tired. Hehadn’t had a wink of sleep, let alone madetime to shave. “Tell me everything youknow about him.”

“His name is Pierre Gaucher and helives just outside of Paris,” she saidpacing the confines of the room. “We usedto be an item. Years ago. Long beforeeither of you were born.”

“Do you have any idea why he’s

stalking you now? Have you donesomething recently to provoke his rage?”he asked, interrogating her with questionafter question. He knew that giving Anaïsthe third degree would surely piss her off.Workplace casualty, he couldn’t help it.

“Of course not! Do you think memad?” she shouted, then grabbed a pieceof stationery off the end table by the bedand scribbled something on it. “I’ll writedown his last known address for you, butthat’s it. My personal life is none of yourconcern.”

“But Adam’s not finished collectingthe forensic data.”

“Call me when you’re done. I’ll bedown at the hotel bar,” she stomped out ofthe room and slammed the door.

Frustrated as hell, Oliver rubbed the

stiff muscles on the back of his neck. Whatwas I thinking? Although he’d only knownAnaïs for a short time, he sensed thatbacking her into a corner by way ofinterrogation would force her to unsheatheher claws. Her instinctual reactionreminded him of that phrase, ‘You getmore bees with honey than vinegar.’ Inorder to extract any valuable informationto help find the killer, he’d have to usekinder, gentler tactics. Mind reading mightdo the trick. But in Anaïs’s case,seduction seemed to be the best course ofaction. Besides, Oliver couldn’t deny hisattraction to her. He had an overwhelmingurge to take the voluptuous vampire tobed.

By any means necessary, Oliverchuckled to himself.

Chapter Five

La Bohème

By the time Oliver had called toinform her that his work was complete, atleast for the night, Anaïs could barelykeep her eyes open. Looking out the tintedglass windows of the hotel bar, shewatched as tiny rays of sunlight dancedacross the pavement. Nearly transfixed bythe sight, she shook her head, then pliedherself of the bar stool. She draggedherself through the lobby to the elevator.

The BPA agent who’d accompaniedOliver remained posted outside her suite.Once inside, her listless body collapsedon top of the comfortable, king-sized bed.Dead to the world.

Anaïs must have slept for hours. Thenext thing she recalled was the buzz of acell phone. She remembered placing it onvibrate moments before she’d tumbledonto the pristine-white comforter anddrifted off to sleep.

Her eyes at a puffy half-mast, Anaïsreached for the phone on the end table.Her voice was groggy and strained as shespoke into the receiver.

“Hello.”“Good evening, sunshine. Rise and

shine,” Oliver’s annoyingly cheerfulbaritone echoed in her ears. “I’m taking

you out for a night on the town.”Cocky bastard, like I’d agree to that.Of course, she knew the snoopy son

of a bitch had probably picked thosewords out of her brain. Glancing at theclock next to the bed, she took note of thetime. Five thirty-seven. Much too early fora vampire to be awake.

“No way. I’m not going anywherewith you.”

She hated his irritatingly smugdemeanor. If only she could get herhormones to agree with that assessment.On the contrary, at the sound of his huskyvoice, her nipples had already gone taut,her panties damp with moisture. After lastnight’s dirty dancing, the mere suggestionof seeing him again almost drove herinsane with lust.

Truth be told, Anaïs was attracted toOliver, ball-busting BPA agent and all.Sure, he’d attempted to seduce her withhis mind-reading mumbo jumbo. But thatprince charming maneuver he pulled afterPierre had threatened her, no doubt madeup for it. In spades. The two of them hadchemistry and there was no reason to fightit. Besides, it had been two days sinceAnaïs had fed. She needed Oliver’sblood.

“Tsk. Tsk. Stop being such a sourpuss,” Oliver teased her. “We’re going tothe opera to see La Bohème. I hear it’sone of your favorites.”

“How’d you know that?”“Research, my dear. I can’t help it.

I’m an information whore,” he said, hissexy laugh sending shivers down her

spine. “Come with me. Please. SinceEva’s out of town, my second ticket willsimply go to waste.”

A whore, huh? Not a bad quality fora man to possess. “I haven’t got anythingto wear.”

“You won’t need to worry aboutclothes. At least not for long,” Oliversaid, then paused as if waiting to gaugeAnaïs’s response. No doubt, he’d sensedher desire in the unspoken words.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Thehitch of her breath gave away her shockand embarrassment.

“My dear, I rarely jest. In fact, I’llhave an outfit and all the accessories sentup to your suite.” The blatant sexualinnuendo, along with the generosity of hisgift, momentarily threw her off guard. The

scoundrel had thought of everything andnow she had no excuse to turn him down.

Anaïs groaned aloud as she rolledover onto her back on the bed andstretched her tired, achy limbs. “Fine. I’llmeet you in front of the opera house ateight,” she conceded, then hung up thephone with the press of a button.

Anaïs hopped into the shower andtook a quick rinse off. Still in her robe,she towel dried her long, burgundytresses. Then she applied a splash of colorto her cheeks and a dollop of pink,iridescent gloss to her lips. Never big onface paint, even in her days at MoulinRouge, she preferred to keep herappearance au natural.

Once she was satisfied with herreflection, Anaïs stepped away from the

mirror. She plopped down on a chair andbegan flipping through the televisionchannels. But before she could findanything interesting to watch, a soft knocksounded at the door. It was Adam, themuscle Oliver had sent to keep an eye onher. He greeted Anaïs with a handsomesmile and set a large rectangular box inher hands. She thanked him, and thenwaited for the acknowledgment that camewith a nod of his head.

Closing the door to the suite,Anaïs’s feet skipped to a happy beat. Shelaid the package down on the bed; all thewhile her stomach did a series ofsomersaults. She had no idea why, but thefact that Oliver had picked out a dressespecially for her, caused a bundle ofnervous excitement to build to a peak. Her

fingers trembled as she lifted the cornersof the box. Then she pushed the layers ofgauzy tissue paper out of the way to reveala gorgeous, pale pink ball gown.

The bodice of the dress wasbreathtakingly beautiful. Its edges werecurved into the shape of a butterfly with arow of opulent pearls etched around theseams. Without hesitation, Anaïs slippedinto the magical frock. She felt like aprincess. Long and flowing, the gown fitperfectly, hugging her bosom and hips, asit cascaded down her curves like awaterfall pooled at her feet. Yet the bestparts of the ensemble still lay nestled inthe oversized box. A delicate pair of satinheels dyed to match the color of the dressand a pear-shaped pink diamond necklace.The jewelry came in a pale blue box with

a simple white bow tied around the edge.The word Tiffany’s had been written inscript across the center. Damn, if Oliverdidn’t have great taste.

As Anaïs put the last touches on herhair and makeup, another knock came fromthe opposite side of the door.

“Miss Moreau, there’s a car waitingfor you downstairs. It’s time to go.”

Of course there is, Anaïs thought.Again, Oliver thought of everything. Thatcontrolling bastard won’t let me out of hissight for a minute.

****Oliver tapped his foot nervously as

he waited for the limousine to pull up infront of the steps of LincolnCenter. It wasfive minutes to eight and patience wasn’this most redeeming quality. Rather ironic,

considering he had a tendency to show uplate wherever he went. Oliver breathed asigh of relief a moment later when thebrakes of the car finally screeched to ahalt.

Anaïs stepped out of the back seat,and Oliver’s body reacted in full force.Nothing could have prepared him for theonslaught of desire that whipped acrosshis senses. One sleek, sultry leg slid out ofthe limousine, and gifted him with aglimpse of luminous, bare skin. Thevivacious vampire had all the glamour andglitz of beauty queen. Instantly, his cockgrew achy and hard. Lucky for him, histuxedo jacket masked the evidence of hisundeniable lust.

Oliver approached, offering hishand to help her out of the waiting vehicle.

Even though she felt cool to the touch,their skin-to-skin contact made his shaftburn with need.

“You look amazing,” he said as hekissed her softly on the cheek, thenstepped back and guided her to the mainentrance of the building. Trying his best totamp down his libido, he led Anaïs insideand up the spiral staircase to the balconylevel. When it came to the opera, Oliversplurged on the best seats available. Afterall, he practically lived for its soulsearching sounds and authentic, period-themed costumes. It was a love that’dbeen passed down for her beloved mother.

For some ungodly reason, Oliveryearned to share the surreal operaexperience with Anaïs. Graceful andrefined, he knew the beautiful ballerina

would appreciate the arts, even beforeEva and Andreas had given him a glimpseinto the woman’s storybook life. They hadbeen the ones to suggest he take her as hisdate. True to form, Anaïs seemed as eageras he did, giggling giddily as they climbedinto their seats and waited for the houselights to dim.

The curtain went up and the actorstook their places on stage, while theorchestra strummed the chords of the firstsong. Anaïs squeezed his fingers andsmiled, then turned her gaze below, as ifmesmerized by the elaborate musicalpageantry of La Bohème. They bothwatched intently, until the end of thesecond act, when intermissioncommenced. Oliver had to relieve hisbladder, so he made his date accompany

him to the handicapped restroom and waitoutside the stall by the wash basin. Herefused to leave her unattended even for aminute, lest her stalker might reveal hiselusive presence. Oliver never refused anopportunity to take a killer off the streets,but it was more than that. Somehow, hefelt responsible for Anaïs, concernedabout her safety.

As they returned to the balcony,Oliver’s sixth sense stood on high alert.Once in their seats, a maître deapproached their box. In his hand, hecarried a glass of what appeared to be redwine. He set it down on the small marbletable between the two chairs. Next to it,he placed a small rectangular objectOliver assumed was a napkin.

“Compliments of Monsieur

Gaucher,” the man said with a bow of hishead.

At the words, Oliver shot to his feet,shoving the server against the wall whilehis fingers wrapped around his throat.“Where is he? Tell me before I strangleyou with my bare hands.” But the servantcouldn’t speak, not with Oliver chokingthe life out of him.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliversaw Anaïs pick up the napkin, and readthe distinct handwriting scrawled in thecenter.

Having fun? Me too.P.G.

That was it. Short and sweet. Oliverwatched her turn the card over onto itsback, and stare at the grotesque image. Aphotograph, not a napkin. On it, thereflection of another female vampire withher throat mercilessly slashed, red oozingdown her naked flesh.

The sight left Oliver teetering on theedge, ready to murder the messenger forhis part in provoking the woman he feltcompelled to protect. Yet with a firm handto his bicep, Anaïs helped still his rage.

“Please. Stop. I just want to gohome.” He sensed the fear in her voice,and saw bloody tears swimming in thedepths of her amber eyes. When he didn’trelease his grip on the server, Anaïs let

out a growl, revealing two serratedcanines at the corners of her mouth. Thevampire’s turbulent emotions rolled overhim and he knew that he had to get her outof there before she lost all semblance ofcontrol.

Oliver unclenched the fist that heldonto the man’s throat, and yanked Anaïsby the arm, dragging her down the stairs.On the way out of the theatre, he pulledout his phone and screamed a command toone of his men.

“Bring the car around to the front.Now.”

****Pierre peered through the binoculars

he’d brought with him to the opera house.Thus far, he hadn’t used them to view theshow. It hadn’t been necessary since hisseat was situated smack dab behind theorchestra section. He did, however, needthem to spy on his former flame, who sathigh above him with another man in a pairof swanky balcony seats.

Anaïs looked as beautiful as she hadthe night he’d met her more than a hundredyears before at the Moulin Rouge cabaret.The pale pink ball gown she worehighlighted her lustrous red locks. Theyspiraled in waves down the sides of herface, while the swell of her bosomflounced over the edge of her slightlyflushed skin.

Pierre’s heart raced, captivated byher breathtaking loveliness. For

innumerable days and nights, he’dfantasized about the naughty escapadesthey’d once wrought and yearned to bereunited with the ravishing red head. Likehim, Anaïs’s tastes bordered on thesadomasochistic side of things. Over afew short months at the turn of thetwentieth century, they lived together inblissful coupledom. The two of them hadrun amuck all over the streets of Paris,leaving a trail of mangled, lifeless bodiesin their path. Even after they’d partedways, Pierre stayed abreast of herwhereabouts.

Anaïs was a creature of habit andrarely left her Parisian flat. Spying on heras he often did, Pierre was surprisedwhen his former lover hopped a plane tothe United States. From what he could

gather, she’d made the trip to New YorkCity in order to attend the nuptials of herinfamous godson, Andreas Kristopolous.

Pierre felt compelled to follow her.He’d been able to sneak into the weddingreception without raising suspicion. Formore than an hour, he lurked from thecorner of the Four Seasons ballroom, abottle of plasma resting on the far end ofthe serving table where he sat. Glass afterglass, he’d gorged himself on blood. WithAnaïs dancing arm-in arm with the samehuman male all night long, he neededsomething to help keep the beast insidehim leashed. Pierre had refused to lose hiscool because when that happened, badthings often ensued.

He’d eyed the couple as they sweptacross the dance floor, their heated

sensual touches forcing him to chase downanother bottle of the intoxicating brew.The more he drank, the more belligerenthe had become.

Every fiber inside Pierre hadscreamed at him to scoop up the scrawnybastard glued to his lover’s side and shankhim in the neck. The urge to draw bloodincreased tenfold once he realized the guywith Anaïs worked for BPA. But with aroomful of vampire assassins in tow, he’dopted to stall his burning rage. Besides,it’d be infinitely more exciting to exact hisrevenge on some random female, then useher as bait. Of course, Anaïs was the onehe truly wanted to ensnare.

Unfortunately, the vivaciousvampire had made it perfectly clear thatshe’d have nothing to do with him. Years

ago, she’d fed him some line about themnot being meant to be. Ever since, Pierrehad kept his distance, admiring her withadoration from afar. That is, unless someworthless, undeserving love interest gottoo close and tried to weasel his way intoher heart.

Once that happened, Pierre had beenforced to act. He wouldn’t let anyone stealhis soul mate, regardless of whether or notAnaïs would agree to cop to that subtledistinction. The two female fledglingshe’d cut up then photographed, were sentas a reminder of that grim fact.

As intermission came to an end,Pierre waited for the couple to re-emergefrom behind the balcony’s curtain. Asadistic smile spread across his facewhile he watched the scene unfold. As

soon as the maître de’s lips began tomove, he saw the human who’daccompanied Anaïs clamp down on theother man’s trachea, cutting off vitaloxygen to his lungs.

After a bit of his own investigativework, Pierre had learned the guy that hadcome to his lover’s aid time and againwas the counsel general of the BPA.Oliver Polinski not only worked for anorganization that hunted down and killedhis kind, the mother fucker ran the wholedamn shebang. That made Pierre’s littlegame all the more thrilling.For the time being, he’d let Anaïs have herfun, parading all over town with publicenemy number one. But soon, Pierrewould make his move. He’d slit her boytoy’s throat, then drag his woman back

home to Paris by the skin of her incisors.

Chapter Six

The Desire to Drink

“Sit down,” Oliver shouted, settingAnaïs down on the chair next to the bed inher suite. Her knees buckled at theforceful gesture. He took a Swiss Armyknife out of the pocket of his trousers andcut a tiny slit across his left wrist. “Here.Drink. Before you topple over and faint.”Anaïs shook her head in vigorous denial.She didn’t want his blood. At least, notlike this. She needed to be the aggressor,

the one in control.The only thing she could think about

was the brutal image reflected in thephotograph. Again, Pierre had hurt aninnocent woman. All because she dared tolive a life without him in it. Of course, shecouldn’t share her true suspicions withOliver. She didn’t want to get himinvolved.

But involved, he was. In fact, themusky, metallic scent of Oliver’s lifeessence called to her. Maybe just onelittle taste. Unable to stop herself, Anaïsdarted her tongue out, lapping up the thindribble of crimson that threatened to stainthe cuff of his white collared shirt. Ittasted sweet with a hint of spicy, exoticginger. Anaïs groaned, intoxicated by thesultry mix of flavors.

She inhaled, taking in his familiarmasculine scent. Damn, if he didn’t smelllike sex on a stick. Why was it that Oliverseemed to cause her to swoon? That wasthe second time he’d made her feel dizzy.In need of precious blood. Once his warmdeliciousness hit her tongue, Anaïs’snipples peaked into tight rosebuds. Heatrose up from her chest and spread acrossher cheekbones, then gravitated lower tosettle in her loins. She felt Oliver stir, hisbody inching toward hers. Liquid pooledbetween her thighs as her body prepareditself for pleasure. Then he went still,hovering motionless over her pliantcurves.

Anaïs couldn’t wait any longer. Sheheld onto the back of Oliver’s neck,nudging him eagerly toward her puckered

lips. Again he stopped short, shying awayfrom the kiss. Everything inside roared ather to take the lead. But Oliver wouldn’tlet her. Instead, he lifted her off the chairand carried her in his arms to the bed.

Finally, he crushed his mouth tohers. It was hot and demanding, searing itsway to her soul. After a few moments ofrapture, he pulled away, replacing his lipswith his still bleeding wrist, and forcedher to drink.

This time, Anaïs lacked thewillpower to refuse. She was starved andOliver tasted so fucking good. Shegrabbed hold of his arm, and drew hismuscular forearm to her breast as sheincreased the suction, feeling the effectsreverberate in her needy sex. Anaïsbucked off the mattress, grinding her

mound against the ridge of his muscularthigh. With his free hand, Oliver reachedbetween her legs and rubbed two fingersover her sensitive clit, relieving some ofthe pressure that had built. Hot damn! Sheneeded more. She wanted him naked, theirbodies entwined in an age-old sensualdance.

Anaïs rose up, fisting his shirt in herhands. She fumbled to undo the buttons.But Oliver grasped her wrist, stopping heradvance with a rough, no-holds bar.“You’ve had a rough night. Get some rest.We’ll finish this another time.”

“No! Don’t leave. I’ll make it worthyour while to stay,” Anaïs said, one handclutched in his salt-and-pepper hair andthe other kneading the firm wall of muscleunderneath his dress shirt.

Oliver’s knees teetered on the edgeof the bed. One moment he looked readyto retreat, the next, he suddenly froze. Hisresolve seemed to slip. Anaïs eyed theundeniable bulge in his trousers andrealized what had caused the hesitation.With no time to waste, she reached out tostroke the thick, rigid shaft through hispants. But Oliver swatted her hand away,then clasped both wrists above her head tokeep Anaïs from moving.

“I can’t. Not tonight,” he said,bending down to place a tender kiss to herforehead. “I’ve got work to do. I need toget a jump on the killer. Perhaps anothernight.” God damn, the man had willpower.Something Anaïs generally admired, butnot at that particular instant.

You bastard, she screamed in her

mind as he walked away from the bed,headed toward the door. The mind readermust have heard the words because heglanced over his broad shoulder and shother a wickedly sexy grin.

“Call me what you will. But I’mlooking out for your own good.”

“Fine. If you say so,” Anaïs said,trying to appear aloof. Inside, the need forhis touch burned like a flame.

“I’m leaving some paperwork withAdam. It’s a questionnaire I’ll need inorder to build a profile on Gaucher. Besure to fill it out before you fall asleep.”

Anaïs turned over onto her stomach,and groaned into a soft, plush pillow asher unrequited lover slammed the doorshut. She was frustrated—sexually andotherwise.

What gives? Men never refuse myadvances.

Originally she’d picked Oliver outof the crowd because she thought shecould overpower him without too much ofa fight. Boy was she wrong. With mostother man, she had been the pursuer, thepredator. Always ready to take what shewanted, then leave them on their kneesbegging for more. But with Oliver, theopposite turned out to be true. Wheneverhe came around, she felt weak, powerlessin the wake of the man’s sexual prowessand domineering presence.

A natural-born leader, he’d grownaccustomed to pushing people around.Much to her chagrin, Anaïs proved just aseasy to manipulate as the rest. Hell, she’dinvited him up to her room to fuck his

brains out. What better way to forget aboutPierre’s most recent stunt? Yet once again,Oliver took charge, bending her to hisformidable will. Sure, he’d allowed her todrink his blood; but the key word therehad been allowed.

It wasn’t only his ability to takecontrol of her body that scared her. Hehad the power to read Anaïs’s thoughtsand force her fears and aspirations to riseto the surface. Already, he knew too muchabout her connection to Pierre. That factalone unnerved her. So far, he hadn’tpushed for answers, but she it was only amatter of time. Soon he’d also uncover thetruth about her past.

As far as she was concerned,Christine was the only person who knewabout the tragedy of Anaïs’s youth, and

that’s the way she wanted to keep it. It hadbeen four hundred years since she’dlocked away the details of her father’sbetrayal and subsequent death. She had nointention of rehashing all the gory details.Still, Oliver had a knack for being able tostrip her bare in order to reveal all herbest kept secrets.

Although I just might enjoy lettinghim get me naked in the process.

Before she could explore herfeelings for the BPA’s counsel general,Anaïs had to find the root of Pierre’srecent brutality. As she answered theitems on the questionnaire Oliver had leftfor her, she realized that a pattern hadbegun to develop. Pierre possessed all thepsychological tendencies of a sociopath.Glibness and superficial charm,

manipulation, lack of emotion, and agrandiose sense of self to name a few.Sure, many of these traits were inherent tothe vampire species, and that included her.Yet Pierre often took them to the extreme.

Then, it came time to fill out thesection of the profile that asked Anaïs torecall her last few interactions with thekiller. It wasn’t until she had written thethird narrative, that it finally hit her. Onceshe discovered the common thread, it feltlike a ton of bricks had been lifted off hershoulders. Other than the new photographsPierre had left for Anaïs to find, theirother interactions had been taken quitesome time ago. Coincidentally, theencounters occurred around the time thatshe’d struck up what Pierre must haveconstrued as a romantic affiliation with

another man.One such event had unfolded in

December of 2008 when Francois, ahandsome, fifty-something playwright hadtaken up temporary residence in herParisian flat. They’d met at a performanceof his work at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysees. While the human had been utterlyenamored by Anaïs’s beauty and charm,he had turned out to be nothing more thanpassing fancy on her part. For a month,they’d made love day in and day out,sharing bodily fluid as if it were water.However, in the end, the playwright’sflighty whimsicality didn’t prove to be agood long term match. She’d craved thebrainy, intellectual type and unfortunately,Francois hadn’t quite fit the bill. That wasthe last time she let romance lead her

astray.Not long after they’d ended the

affair, she received a huge assortment ofwilted, long stem roses with a note fromPierre.

I see you’ve ended your sillyinfatuation.

Missing you.

P.G.

Another threat had arrived in May1997, almost fifteen years to the day.

Christine had recently passed and hergrieving husband, Aristotle, needed anescape from reality. He’d stolen awayfrom his vast responsibilities as the headof the New York City coven in order toproperly grieve. He had visited Paris for alittle over a week, then left, having madethe decision to cede the position of powerhe long held to his only son, Andreas.Anaïs couldn’t remember the exact wordsin the message Pierre had sent afterwards;the cat’s severed head had left the biggestimpression. At the time, she had merelythought he was a sadistic freak. Now, sherealized his behavior went beyond that.The puzzle pieces were starting to cometogether and all she had to do was confidein Oliver and let his people work theirmagic.

Easier said than done.

Chapter Seven

The Body Count

After leaving Anaïs’s hotel room,Oliver received a call from a buddy of hisby the name of Ronan O’Shea, a man whoworked for the NYPD. It was a call thatcame often when suspicious, supernaturaldeaths registered on police radar. Luckily,his detective friend remained active on theBPA payroll and knew exactly what tolook for and who to contact if he foundanything out of the ordinary.

In this case, two female bodies hadwashed up the shores of the HudsonRiver, their heads and limbs missing fromthe rest of their burned, battered torsos.Since Adam was the most efficient agenthe had at collecting forensic evidence,Oliver called in someone to relieve him atthe Four Seasons. The two of them met bythe docks a short time later, ready to getdown to business. They not only had towork fast to gather the information theyneeded, they also had to dispose of theremains of the charred bodies. While thesun from the previous day had alreadyburnt the vampire corpses to a crisp, theystill had to make sure that no proof of theirexistence would ever be unearthed byhuman hands. It was a dirty job, butsomebody had to do it.

It was almost sunrise by the timethey’d wrapped up the investigation andheaded back to BPA headquarters. Oliverhad put in a few hours of sleep, then wokeup refreshed and eager to get back towork. Once in his office, he pulled out thepaperwork Anaïs had reluctantly agreed tofill out. The agent left in Adam’s stead hadfaxed the information to him that morning,so he sat down at his desk and browsedthrough the files. Nothing provedsurprising in the Myers-Briggs personalityassessment, considering he’d already seenthe bastard’s graphic handiwork. PierreGaucher displayed all the classiccharacteristics of a serial killer. Inaddition to the psychological profile, thephotographs he’d taken and the crimescene he’d left behind left little doubt in

his mind. Yet the man was smart, leavingno fingerprints and very little clues to helpOliver’s team hunt him down.

The only task Oliver hadn’t had timeto do yet was pore over the narrative textthat Anaïs had been gracious enough tocomplete. In fact, it surprised him thatshe’d even taken the time to fill it out,especially after she’d been so tight-lippedabout her personal life.

Oliver paid attention to each minutedetail of Anaïs’s account. First, he tooknote of the delicate spiral flow of herpenmanship. It was clear she’d taken greatcare in order to be thorough. Then henoticed the subtle smear of blood in thebottom right-hand corner of the page. Atone point, she must have been crying asshe wrote.

Oliver’s heart wrenched as he readabout Anaïs’s last few encounters withPierre. The man had most certainlydeveloped an unhealthy romantic fixationwith her. He knew that the two of themhad once been involved in a relationship,the extent of which was still unclear;Anaïs had yet to divulge that information.Oliver understood why. He himselfwrestled with the idea of working side byside with the enemy, let alone trusting oneanother with details from their shadowypasts. Like Oliver, it seemed the femalevampire had a few skeletons in her closetthat she wasn’t quite ready to reveal. Itwas up to him to break down thosebarriers. Otherwise, they’d have a veryslim chance of finding the killer before hestruck again.

“How have things gotten fucked upso quickly?” Oliver said aloud with abeleaguered sigh.

Working his way up the ranks withthe BPA, Oliver had spent the better partof the last twenty five years feeding hishatred for bloodsuckers. Recruited inGermany while studying Forensic Scienceat the University of Stuttgart, he’d beentaught that supernatural beings were anabomination of nature. For centuries, theyhad swept across the European continentand held humans hostage with the threat ofviolence and death. Oliver had seenenough suffering in his time. Members ofhis own family had fallen victim to thebrutal cruelty of Adolf Hitler, a madmanwhose senseless acts nearly obliterated anentire race of people. Imagine if

supernatural beings decided to wipehumans off the face of the earth. Whowould be able to stop them?

Without question, their kind had tobe abolished from existence. Oliver felt itwas his duty to take up the staff. He wasno warrior, but nonetheless, he possessedother useful talents. Astute andresourceful, he had a knack for enlistingagents with the skill and speed needed todecimate their opponents. He trained hismen to kill first, and ask questions later.Of all the powerful fiends he’dencountered, vampires, more often thannot, were considered guilty until proveninnocent.

Although in the last few months,Oliver’s moral judgment had been testedover and over again, initially when Eva

had been kidnapped, her life threatened byNatasha, the Kristopolous family’s jealousfemale head of security. Yet Andreas hadbeen the one to save her. Then again, onceEva had revealed the depth of her feelingsfor the man who’d rescued her, and theimpending birth of their half-breedoffspring. Those events perpetuated a warwithin Oliver’s conscience. He began toquestion his view on vampires and life ingeneral.

Eva was still his number oneassassin. That wouldn’t change anytimesoon. Even though she’d shacked up witha vampire, she’d stay faithful to her dutiesas the huntress, vanquishing monsters fromthe streets. But the lines of good and evilwere now blurred, and she often workedwith Andreas to bring down the bad guys.

Eva’s marriage to the leader of the NewYork City coven meant that Oliver, too,would have to cooperate with the undead.However, that didn’t mean he had to likethem.

Anaïs had certainly thrown awrench in that plan. He liked her. Toomuch, in fact. Sure, he wanted to despiseher, but he couldn’t. She was smart,beautiful, and sassy – all he’d everwanted in a lover. He even enjoyedfeeding her his blood. It turned out to beone hell of a turn on. Truth be told, hecouldn’t wait to explore the intense sexualchemistry they both seemed to share.Oliver had a feeling that was the only wayhe’d get her to open up and tell him moreabout her past. While he could pick up onher cursory thoughts, she kept the

important stuff locked away inside hersubconscious. She’d been the one with thepower to fuck with his mind. Oliver hopedthat once he’d slept with her, he be able tostop thinking about her day and night.

Not likely, but it’s worth a try.****Anaïs needed to think. It’d been

damn near a week since she’d arrived inNew York City, and that scumbag Pierrestill hadn’t shown his face. Instead, thepassive aggressive motherfucker had takenout his anger and jealousy on two innocentwomen, both of which had been foundbloody and beaten earlier that morning.Even while she slept, Oliver had sent hertext messages throughout the day to keepher abreast of any new developments.

Her gut reaction had been to leave

town. Then the killings would cease. Afterall, fading away into obscurity was whatshe did best. She’d run away too manytimes to count: first after being disgracedin the French court and later, when Pierrehad turned out to be more cruel andsavage than her own self-serving sire. Thelast straw had come after her best friend’ssenseless murder and she’d locked herselfaway from the world almost entirely.Other than the handful of aspiringballerinas that she chose to train in thestorefront below her Parisian flat, Anaïshad little contact with people.

But Anaïs had too much pride to letPierre scare her into seclusion again. Itwas bad enough she’d been holed up in astinking hotel room for the past five days.Being stuck in her suite had started to

drive her bonkers. Somehow, she had tosneak out.

The idea of stealing away madeAnaïs feel like a thief in the night. Luckily,she’d packed the perfect outfit for such atask. She slipped on a slinky black leatherminiskirt and a matching halter top, thenstrapped on her spike-heeled boots andswept her red hair up into a messyponytail. She had to admit, she lookedsexy as sin and ready to do damage.

Before she could go in search ofPierre, she had to take out the musclestationed by the door of her suite. Nomatter how much her instincts screamed ather to kill him, she’d never be able tomuster up enough nerve to follow throughwith it. After all, Adam had done his bestto ensure her safety during her stay at the

Four Seasons. As long as he didn’t put uptoo much of a fight, she’d let him live.Anaïs stepped out into the hall and stuckout her cleavage, eager to distract theguard with a display of her ample assets.But instead of the babysitter she was usedto, another man stood in his place.

Who’s this bozo? Where’s Adam?Shaking off the strange sensation

that crept up her spine, Anaïs cocked herhip to the side and leaned in, moisteningher lower lip with her tongue. Her gazezeroed in on her prey. With her pupilsfully dilated, she stared up into the man’spiercing blue gaze. She watched hishulking six foot four frame fall victim toher irresistible powers of suggestion.

Anaïs approached him, wrappingher arms around his broad shoulders as if

to initiate a kiss. But once he was closeenough, she pivoted on her heels andturned him in her arms, gripping the backof his neck in a tight bear hug. Then shesqueezed gently until his face becamebright red, a consequence of the blood thathad been drawn away from the area.She’d cut off the oxygen to the agent’sbrain and watched his limber bodycollapse onto the floor. However, shehadn’t killed him, just knocked him out fora short time.

As soon as she was sure thebodyguard was down for the count, shetook off her boots and ran for the stairs inorder to avoid any more of Oliver’sgoons. Anaïs knew that in addition to him,there was at least one BPA agent postednext to the service elevator that she’d need

to elude.Unfortunately, she hadn’t expected

the guy in the stairwell. The pair tussledfor a time as each one got in a decisiveblow or two. However, the scuffle endedonce Anaïs stabbed the spike of her shoeinto his neck. The man stopped short,staring down at her with an oddexpression. Then he pulled the spike outof his throat, and shoved her forcefullyagainst the wall.

“What the hell is your problem?” heasked, swiping his shaggy blond locks outof his face to reveal a pair of blood-redeyes and sharp, protruding fangs.

“Oops! Sorry.” Anaïs replied, bitingdown on the inside of her cheek. “I thoughtyou were a BPA agent. Who are youanyway?”

“The name’s Bobby DuBois. I workfor Andreas. What are you doing outhere?” His long, drawn out southern twangcame out a tad annoyed.

“No time to explain. I knocked outone of Oliver’s men and if my estimatesare correct, he’ll be waking up any timenow. Can you get me out of here?”

Bobby nodded, then grabbed herwrist and flew down the stairs, skippingsteps along the way. When they finallymade it to the underground parking garage,he pushed the button on his car alarm untilthe lights of a silver Porsche flashed onand off.

The moment they hopped into thecar, Anaïs saw the doors of the serviceelevator open. The bodyguard she’d put tosleep stepped out, eyeing the sports car as

it sped off. He looked none too happy andshe knew Oliver would be far, far angrierwhen he found out about her escape.

“Where’re we headed?” she askedas the car merged into traffic.

“Andreas’s nightclub, The Crypt,”Bobby said with a shrug of his shoulders.“With a bunch of humans babysitting youfor the last few days, I figured you’d wantto mingle with your own kind.”

A man after my own heart, Anaïschuckled under her breath. No doubt,Pierre would be there.

Chapter Eight

Cozy in the Club

Oliver gripped the steering wheel ofthe Ranger Rover tight. His fingers duginto the grooves of the leather, leavingimprints in the shallow seams. Adamusually drove, but this time, Oliverinsisted on sitting behind the driver’s seat.Like a hawk, his gaze shifted left to right,soaking in every sight that could be foundalong the busy Manhattan street. Out of thecorner of his eye, he spotted a familiar

blue sedan weaving in and out of thelanes, trying to keep up with his speed. Itwas the same car that’d been on their taila few nights before.

Come on, you bastard. Let’s seewhat you’re made of.

This time Oliver pressed his foot onthe gas pedal, gunning it all the way to thefloor and peeling out as he turned thecorner. He expected the car several carlengths behind would speed up, but hehadn’t. The stalker had patience, so itseemed. He couldn’t be sure who it was,but Oliver hoped like hell it turned out tobe Pierre Gaucher. As soon as he got hishands on the sick son of a bitch, he’d bedead.

Oliver pulled up in front of the TheCrypt. He looked through the rear view

mirror, but the car following them hadvanished. Good thing, too, because theblue sedan was the last thing on his mind.Anger and pure, unadulterated lust tookcontrol of his thoughts. He had to findAnaïs, and the moment he did, he’d set herstraight once and for all. Oliver had everyintention of dragging her back to BPAHeadquarters with him. Once there, he’dutilize whatever tactic proved necessaryto get her to talk, even if it entailed the useof his tongue and cock.

Oliver handed his keys to the valetand strutted past the velvet ropes withAdam not far behind. Normally, theywouldn’t be allowed within fifty feet ofthe establishment, but Oliver had beensmart enough to call beforehand and giveAndreas a heads up. Even if he hadn’t

gotten the okay, he’d have gone in armedwith a shitload of wooden stakes,regardless of the consequences.

Once inside, the sounds of technomusic and the flash of neon lightsmomentarily blurred his ability to see.After a few minutes, Oliver’s cloudedvision cleared and the layout of the clubbecame visible. The place had an openfloor plan, with no interior walls toobstruct his view. The enormous spacewas separated into three separate levels.Oliver entered on the second, or middle,of the three floors.

Above him, people danced andmingled over the edge of finely ornateterraces accented by dim torch light.Below him, luxurious VIP suites werefilled with champagne flutes and velour

lounge chairs. On the level where Oliverstood, there was a huge bar with dozens ofpatrons crowded around it, trying to orderdrinks. Just past the bar, there was adeejay booth, which opened up into animmense dance floor, complete with aspinning disco ball and raised platformswhere go-go girls flashed their femininewiles.

Glancing up, Oliver spied the objectof his desire on the floor above him.Anaïs was dancing with a man, a vampireas evidenced by the blood-curdling glowof his eyes. He had her luscious curvespinned against the balcony. Her backarched into the shape of a bow and herhair was draped over the railing’sdecorative edge like a victory flag wavingin the air. The sight made Oliver’s blood

boil. He could hear its thunderous roar inhis veins. His hands fisted at his side,fingernails digging into his sweaty palms.

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” heshouted to Adam, who leaned casuallyagainst the bar, eyeing a pretty brunette.

Then Oliver leapt up the stairs to thethird level of the nightclub and pushed hisway through the hordes of half-drunkpartygoers until he stood staring at theback of the male vampire’s skull.

Oliver tapped the guy on theshoulder. “Pardon me. Do you mind if Icut in?”

The bloodsucker barelyacknowledged his presence. “Get lost,” heanswered, with a slight tilt of his head.However, Oliver wouldn’t be denied. Heslid out the stake he kept hidden inside his

coat pocket. Then he shoved his opponentback so he could look him square in theface as he placed the pointed edge of theweapon to his heart. The man’s eyebrowsshot up in surprise once he saw the tip setagainst the lapel of his stark white shirt.

The bastard stepped closer, his redorbs growing darker until they’d beentransformed into a dark, glossy haze.Fangs extended, he sneered into Oliver’sear; the threat came through loud andclear. Then, a splotch of blood spreadacross his chest. But before Oliver couldpress the stake all the way through, Anaïsstepped between them and knocked theweapon to the floor.

“Both of you calm down,” she saidas she stared back and forth from one manto the other. Then, she turned to the

vampire she’d been dancing with earlier.“You’ll have to excuse me. It appears thatmy dance card’s full for the rest of thenight.”

The sly smirk that developed at thecorners of Oliver’s mouth provedpriceless, better than if he’d rubbed salt inthe vampire’s bloody wound. His rivalstuck his proverbial tail between his legsand disappeared into the crowd.

Oliver snatched up Anaïs’s hand,and swept her into his strong embrace. Hegrabbed her ass and thrust her against hissteel frame, rubbing his partial erectionover the bundle of nerves that surroundedher clit. Their bodies glued together, theygrooved to the tempo of the fast-pacedtechno beats. Hip to hip, the sexual tensionbetween them sparked into a raging, lust-

laden inferno.Oliver grasped both of his partner’s

hands. He thrust them behind her back,exerting his dominance and giving hervery little room to move. It seemed shecould hardly breathe, let alone find a wayto escape. With Anaïs at his mercy, Oliverswooped in, his face mere inches fromhers.

“You’ve been a very bad girl, AnaïsMoreau.” His husky voice whispered inher ear. It was laced with hostility andunfulfilled desire. Then he lowered hishead and kissed her, slow and sensuallywhile a hand explored every facet ofAnaïs’s magnificent flesh through herclothes. Soon, he heard a soft moan slippast her lips and felt her tremble in hisarms.

Oliver couldn’t hesitate; the time toact had come. As he continued to distracther with his mouth, he reached one handinto the pocket of his trousers and pulledout a zip tie. It was a simple, yet effectivetool he often employed when the need toapprehend a suspect presented itself. Ashe locked the plastic apparatus into place,Anaïs’s body stiffened. The arch of herspine lengthened, while the sereneexpression on her face became replacedwith an indignant scowl. Lifting her chin,she turned her nose to the wind andrefused to meet her lover’s simmeringgaze.

“So this is what it’s come to? ForGod’s sake, I’m a vampire, not a rabidanimal. Must you tie me up like this?”

“Somebody’s gotta save you from

yourself,” Oliver smiled into the side ofher cheek, half amused at her snooty showof defiance. Maybe she thought it’d pisshim off, but it only served to make himhard and hornier than imaginable.“Besides, have you ever tried playing therole of a submissive? You never know,you might enjoy letting someone else takethe lead for once.”

It had been a while since Oliver hadbeen with a lover, so he’d had lots of timeto prepare. When it came to women, he’doften come across as shy and reserved.Yet with Anaïs, the opposite seemed to bethe case. Maybe because she was abloodthirsty vampire, he couldn’t be sure.Either way, the commander in him hadplanned her seduction down to every lastdetail, as if it were a covert mission. The

only task that remained? Its flawlessexecution.

Oliver picked his lover up andtossed her over his broad shoulder,motioning to Adam below to meet them bythe main entrance on the second floor.Oliver carried Anaïs, his hand settledalong the curve of his plump derrière.Vampires and humans turned to stare asshe kicked and squirmed, trying like thedevil to spring herself loose. In fact, hewas surprised she hadn’t sunk her fangsinto one of the thick veins on his neck.

“Oliver. Put. Me. Down,” Anaïsscreamed at the top of her lungs. Still,very few people could hear her over theloud music in the club.

The vampire’s flailing protests hadan unfortunate effect, at least for her. It

caused the skirt she wore to risesignificantly and expose her nakedness.Oliver felt her soft, supple rear press intohis palm.

Dear Lord, she not wearing anythingunderneath the leather skirt.

Once inside the elevator, he shiftedher in his arms, and then glanced up. Hecouldn’t resist a peek. He eyed the vibrantcolors of a purple and gold wildflowertattoo that shimmered on her bare flesh. Itwas surrounded by a web of intricately-woven vines that slid down the crevice ofher ass and pointed straight toward thesweet nectar hidden between her thighs.

Sexy.The elevator doors parted and

Oliver jostled his way through the crowdto get to the exit. Outside, Adam was

waiting by the car, the back door on thepassenger side propped open.

“Get in. And fasten your seatbelt,”Oliver said as he set Anaïs down on herfeet. Then, he slid in next to her andtapped twice on the headrest in front ofhim to let Adam know it was time to go.

The tires of the Range Roversquealed as it quickly accelerated awayfrom the curb. “Hey, boss. While youwere upstairs dealing with the girl, I got acall from Ronan. He was able to run theplates on the blue sedan,” he said as hepeered out the side mirrors as if lookingfor that same pesky vehicle. “We’ve alsogot some intel from our European divisionon Gaucher. It’s not much, but the report’swaiting for you on your desk.”

Oliver nodded, keeping his attention

fixed on Anaïs. She had her arms foldedacross the front. Her heaving breasts andthe sexy pout of her lips called to himfrom the adjacent seat.

Stop looking at me like I’m a pieceof meat, the temptress shouted to Oliverfrom inside her head. Of course, he knewshe wanted him to hear every word. Hesmiled, and then reached out to tease aloose tendril of her red hair.

My how the tables have been turned,Oliver thought to himself. Too bad shecouldn’t hear what he’d said.

Chapter Nine

Total Submission

During the forty-five minute car ridefrom the nightclub to BPA headquarters,Anaïs let her temper stew. She’d wastedtime kicking and screaming like a spoiledrotten child until she’d nearly turned bluein the face. However, in the end, sherealized it hadn’t done much good. Oliverremained as stubborn and strong willed asever.

“Get out of the car,” he said; the

curt, authoritarian sound of his voice leftno room for negotiation.

Anaïs bit her tongue, making everyattempt to quell her anger and keep hertrap wired shut. Then she climbeddutifully out of the back seat. She hadn’tbeen able to see much of the terrain due tothe Range Rover’s dark, tinted windows.But once in the open air, the captivatingsurroundings left her in awe and served asa momentary reprieve from her inner rage.The light from the moon’s rays illuminatedthe classic Victorian-style home whereOliver and most of his team worked andlived. It was a stunning sight. The hundredyear old residence looked pristine, kept inits original nineteenth century condition bywhat appeared to be a skilled craftsmanfamiliar with every facet of the

painstaking restoration process.The wood siding on the house had

been meticulously shaped into semi-circles, then hand-painted with a paleshade of grey. There was a large wrap-around porch and pearly white plantationshutters perfect for keeping cool duringthe warm summer months. The picturesqueestate was lined by rows of cherryblossom trees and rolling green hills thatreminded Anaïs of the French countryside.Without a doubt, the person responsiblefor the upkeep of the property possessedimpeccable taste and spent countlesshours making sure it was well-maintained.

“Adam, get her upstairs into theguest room next to mine. And make sureshe stays restrained.” Oliver strode intothe house. He shoved open a door tucked

underneath the stairwell, and lockedhimself inside.

As soon as Anaïs had beenescorted into the room and properlyrestrained, she kicked off her high-heeledboots and flopped on the large four-posterbed in the middle of the room. It seemedlike hours before Oliver even bothered tocheck on her. She’d been waiting a longtime and wanted to get up and walk a bit.Unfortunately, the handcuff that tetheredone hand to the headboard didn’t allowfor much freedom of movement. Her onlyconsolation was the view afforded by thelarge picture window a few feet from thebed.

The curtains were drawn and Anaïscould see the billowy clouds move pastthe window, revealing a sky filled with

bright, bountiful stars. The night waspeaceful and quiet, the only sound the hootof an owl perched in a tree nearby.

Lost in the scenic tranquility, shedidn’t notice that Oliver had entered theroom. He stood in the doorway, watching.The intensity of his stare burned throughAnaïs, making her skin sizzle. The energybetween them was electric, as always.Finally alone with the man she’d beenfantasizing about for days, she could feelthe waves of desire rolling in, a high tideof covetous need crashing over them both.

“Hey there. You doing okay?”Oliver asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Anaïs turned hergaze toward the window once again.“This place. It’s beautiful.”

“I think so too.” Oliver walked to

the edge of the bed, his steps slow anddeliberate. “It’s a labor of love. But myfather was a carpenter and he taught me alot of the tricks of the trade.”

“You did all this?” Anaïs asked, asmile lit up the corners of her mouth.Oliver nodded his head, then looked awayas if bashful. “Wow! I’m impressed.” TheBPA’s counsel general was full ofsurprises and she yeaned to uncover more.

Oliver scooted closer, the top of hishand grazing the bare skin on theunderside of her thigh. With the otherhand, he rubbed the muscles on the back ofhis neck. “Enough about me. Let’s talkabout you. Tell me how you metGaucher.”

Anaïs rolled her eyes, annoyed atthe seamless way he’d been able to divert

the conversation. In fact, talking was thelast thing on her mind. With the heat of hisbody next to her, she felt compelled toreach out and twiddle her fingers in thedark, curly hairs that peeked out from hishalf-buttoned shirt. The poor guy had beenhard at work all night, scouring overdocuments pertinent to the investigation.He hadn’t even had time to change intomore comfortable clothes.

“Let’s make a deal. First, we’llplay. Then, I’ll tell you whatever you wantto know.”

Oliver snatched up the hand thatdawdled on his chest. His firm grip duginto the tender skin of her wrist. He leanedin, and the scent of musk and masculinitywafted past her nose. Underneath it, theirresistible lure of his blood called to her.

Anaïs could hear the trickle of liquidswish through his veins. More thananything, she wanted to suckle his neckand savor its flavor. But Oliver held tight,letting her know that he planned to set thepace. At least, for tonight.

“I’ll take you up on that offer. Butonly on one condition,” Oliver said, hisattention focused on the swell of herbreasts. They rose and fell with eachinhale and exhale of her breath.

“What’s that?”“I’m in charge. You’ll do exactly as

I say.” The rumble of his voice as heuttered the sultry demand reverberatedthrough her, sending shivers down herspine. “Now stand up and remove yourclothes. I want to see you. All of you.”

Unable to speak, Anaïs did what her

lover asked. Due to the handcuff on herright wrist, she couldn’t pull her clothingover her head. She unzipped her leatherskirt and lowered it past her thighs. Then,she slid the matching halter top down untilthe slinky black material fell to the floor.The wind from the open window whippedaround the room, and made both of hernipples stiffen into tight, aching peaks.

For a brief moment, Oliver stared,his blue eyes memorizing the shape andcontour of her subtle curves. He paidparticular attention to her small, roundbreasts.

“Turn around,” he said, makingcircles in the air with his index finger untilshe obliged. Then from the corner of hereye, she watched him open the top drawerof the night stand by the bed, and pull out

an object. It had a wooden handle thatconnected to nine long strips of thickbraided leather. At the end of each one, ared silk rose was woven into the hide.

“What is that?” Anaïs felt the softpetals trace along the curvature of herspine, making her sensitive skin quiver atthe touch.

“It’s a flogger. I picked it up theother day. Just for you.”

“For me?” she asked as a surge ofexcitement shot through her.

“Mmm hmm.”Oliver stepped closer. His rock-

hard abs pressed against the hollow of herback. Then he wrapped his arm around herwaist and traced the ends of each graceful,swirling strap along the ridge of hernarrow hip. Hot breath skimmed over her,

which forced Anaïs to groan out loud. Theoverload of sensation caused her pussy toclench too. She shifted her weight, lettingher body sag against Oliver. No use infighting it any longer.

All of a sudden Oliver raised theflogger over his head. In a split second, helowered it back down, snapping thesmooth leather tails against the inside ofher thigh. The thorns on the petals markedher flesh with tiny red imprints. Anaïswinced, then moaned as pain and pleasureeviscerated her control.

Without warning, her incisorsemerged. Her fingernails unfurled,clawing the rich mahogany wood of theheadboard, both of which were instinctualreactions triggered by her lover’soverzealous play. She wanted Oliver.

Badly. But the compromising positionhe’d placed her in had inadvertentlyunleashed the beast within.

“How do I know I can trust you?”Anaïs asked, arching away from him asjuices from her pussy drizzled down herleg. The rich, floral scent of her sexpermeated the room. Her body wascertainly primed. However, before shecould fully submit, she had to hear hisreply. He’d already stolen her soul; theleast he could do was leave her dignityintact.

“Isn’t it I who should be afraid?After all, you’re the vampire.” A sly smileappeared on Oliver’s devilishly handsomefeatures. At the same time, he snapped thecat o’ nine tails briskly across her asscheek, the one with the wildflower tattoo

that he’d been ogling earlier. “But if itmakes you feel any better, we can use asafe word. That way, if things get tootantric for your taste, we can stop.”

“Good idea.” Lifting one knee ontothe mattress, Anaïs spread her thighs. Thatway, Oliver could see all she had to offer.“You seem fascinated with my body art.Perhaps ‘wildflower’ would do as a safeword.”

“Per. Fect.” Oliver growled the twosyllables as he stroked his cock throughhis trousers. Then, he reached out toswipe his palm over the puddle of liquidthat had pooled behind her knee. He liftedthe hand to his mouth, and sampled herfeminine flavor.

“Mmm. You’re definitely ready toplay.”

Lubricated with a mix of sex andsaliva, Oliver’s digits delved between herlegs, and fondled the nub of her throbbingclit. The friction from the rubbing set herdesire aflame. Just when she’d felt thecrest of an orgasm hit, he pressed twofingers inside and began to thrust. Cumflowed from her pussy. The inclined angleof his hand caused the liquid to snake uphis arm like an unruly vine.

At the same time, Oliver smackedher backside with the tails of the floggeragain. Anaïs bucked off the edge of thebed. Her womb clamped down on hisfingers as she screamed his name in herhead.

Oliver. Please. Don’t. Stop.“Don’t worry, baby. We’re just

getting started.” Oliver moved toward the

end of the bed. He turned his lover in hisarms and nudged her to her knees onto thefloor.

“What do you want me to do?”Anaïs asked, her face hovering above hisnavel. She could see the firm bulge of hisshaft throbbing like mad within his pants.

“Undo my belt and take hold of mycock.”

Suddenly, Anaïs’s mouth went dry.She licked her lips, yanked on his buckle,and watched his linen trousers sink to hisankles.

OMG! This guy’s huge.Anaïs’s tongue jutted out to probe

the head of his erection, but he jerkedback and stole the prize. She needed totaste him, but because of those peskyhandcuffs, it was hard to move. With her

free hand flat against the corded musclesof his stomach, she gently pressed himback toward the mattress. However, hegrumbled his disapproval, refusing to lethis impenetrable body be swayed.

“Please. I’m dying for a taste. Butthese restraints make it rather difficult.Would it be too much to ask you to takethem off?” Anaïs asked as she batted hereyelashes and wrapped her thumb andforefinger around the girth of his sex. Shesqueezed the base, then stroked up anddown, eliciting her lover’s guttural groan.

Oliver sighed, rolling his eyes as ifsarcastic. “Nice try. But that’s never goingto happen.” Then he sat down, giving hereasier access to his crotch.

Anaïs slid the tip into her mouth.Inch by inch, she lowered herself onto

Oliver’s cock. He was long and thick,perfect in every proportion. With hisentire length between his lips, shemoaned, letting his impressive shaftmassage the back of her throat. The sharpedge of her canines grazed his sensitiveskin, as she bobbed her head up and downto suck him like a luscious cherrylollipop.

“Oh fuck! Not yet. I’m not ready tocome.” Oliver grabbed a handful of herred locks, and wrenched her off his cock.Anaïs whimpered softly. She felt bereft,like a baby whose candy had been tornfrom her pouty, puckered lips. “Get on allfours and crawl to the center of themattress.”

Oliver climbed behind her onto thebed, kicking off his pants to keep from

falling over. He used his knees to spreadAnaïs wide. Then his talented handssettled on her buttocks, separating the twinmounds with a quick flick of the wrist.Before she knew what hit her, Oliver’snose was buried between her ass cheeks.His tongue darted out, making sensualcircles around the rim of her anus. Sheloved the warm, wet sensation against herperineum. Then he used his mouth to fuckher rear, propelling in and out. His handskept busy too. Soon, they each found theirown special spot. The right one pinchedher nipple, while the other flicked herpulsating clitoris before moving lower topummel her pussy. Anaïs wiggled andwrithed under Oliver’s masterful touch.She was so close. A massive orgasmthreatened to explode.

The moment her climax hit, Oliverwrenched her body up flush against hissweaty torso. He captured her screams ofpleasure with a searing, soulful kiss thatrobbed her of every last ounce of strength.Anaïs collapsed on the bed and Olivertoppled over too. Their breathing so deepand desperate, she thought she mighthyperventilate.

Oliver raised his head, and tracedthe ridge of her spine with his tongue.Once he’d reached her tailbone, he turnedAnaïs over onto her back. She was soweak that she couldn’t even open her eyes.

Oliver must have sensed the direnature of her pale, listless body. The truthof the matter was she hadn’t had muchsustenance to speak of in the last week. Infact, the only blood she’d sampled had

come from him. Oliver lifted Anaïs’s handand kissed it before he used one of herlong, deadly claws to cut a tear in theflesh of his pec. Then, he cushioned theback of her head in his hands and forcedher to drink from the bloody wound on hischest. Hot and heady, his alluring flavorslid down her throat. However, she wasso spent that she could only take a fewshort sips.

“Get some rest, my sweet little sub.When you wake up, we’ll finish where weleft off.”

Chapter Ten

Confessions

Oliver woke suddenly. The sound ofsomeone banging on the door of his suitejostled him from his sleep. He pried openone eye and took note of the dark sky andrustling trees outside his window. Theclock to his left read a quarter til six,however the sun had still not risen.

“Wake up, man. Something’s up.”Adam’s voice projected through the thickwalls of the room. Oliver turned over onto

his back, feeling the coolness of the emptypillow next to him. For a moment, he’dforgotten that he left Anaïs restingpeacefully in the bedroom adjacent to his,one hand still chained to the headboard.Tussling with sheets trapped around hisankles, he climbed out of bed and walkedtoward the door.

“What’s the problem? Is it thevamp?” Oliver asked as he yanked on thedoorknob. He was naked, other than thebedding fettered at the hips. Adam shothim a knowing glance. While he’d sleptalone in his bed, the scent of a woman’sjuices nonetheless clung to him. It didn’thelp that he’d answered the door without astitch of clothing.

“No, she’s fine. Still knocked outfrom what I can tell.” Adam’s breath

smelled of stagnant coffee. His hairlooked disheveled. From what Olivergathered, he hadn’t slept all night. It wasno surprise. Adam often stayed up waypast dawn, analyzing forensic data in thelab located in the basement. “But thealarm’s been disarmed. Someone mighthave gained access to the house.”

Shit! Oliver slid on a pair of snug-fitting jeans. It had to be Pierre. He shouldhave known that arrogant bastard wouldn’tbe afraid of sneaking into a lion’s den.Before checking on Anaïs the night before,Oliver had read through the intel he’dreceived on Anaïs’s former lover. Otherthan a few run-ins with law enforcementfor drunk and disorderly conduct, heshowed up as nothing more than a tiny blipon BPA’s radar. He was a well-to-do

bloodsucker with a proclivity for wineand women, but the rest remained amystery. Coupled with the fact that thetrace they’d put on the blue sedan turnedout to be a dead end, Oliver wasdesperate for answers, the kind that onlyone person could give.

He shoved open the adjoining doorthat led to Anaïs’s suite. She was soundasleep, her serene expression proof thatshe’d been well loved the night before.While technically they hadn’t hadintercourse, the female vampire hadwrithed and moaned in his arms. Fromwhat he could tell, he’d gifted her with atleast two mind-blowing orgasms. Oliverwasn’t quite sure what had come overhim. Anaïs brought out his wild, recklessside. On top of that, the vixen gave one

hell of a blowjob too.Oliver placed a hand to Anaïs’s

shoulder and jolted her from slumber. Hermouth turned up at the corners as asatisfied grin spread across her face. Shestretched her long, agile limbs like acontent jungle cat. The slits of her ambereyes shone bright against the fadingmoonlight.

Lord have mercy! She’s the mostbeautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

“Morning,” Anaïs said as shereached out to caress his bare chest.“Ready for another quickie before the suncomes up?”

“Sorry, that’ll have to wait.” For thefirst time, Oliver’s glance turned awayfrom his lover’s face. On the end tablenext to the bed, the flogger he’d used to

tease Anaïs dangled over one side. But itwas what lay underneath, that set Oliver’snerves on edge.

Another photograph. Oliver didn’tpay much attention to the image of the girlon the front; he knew it’d be much of thesame. Instead, he concentrated on thecaption.

Be forewarned. Familiarity breedscontempt.

P.G.

Oliver stood and grabbed a soft,cotton robe that hung from the coat rackand flung it in Anaïs’s direction. Hefumbled with the key in his hand andremoved the handcuff from her wrist.“Your friend’s been here. Get your ass outof bed and put that on. We need to talk.”

Combing her dainty fingers throughher hair to get it out of her face, Anaïsrose up from the bed. Still naked, shedraped the bathrobe over his shouldersand tied the bulky fabric at the waist.Then, she sat back on the corner of themattress, her posture stiff and herdemeanor serious. She picked up the

photograph and turned it over.After a few minutes, she finally

caved. With a heavy sigh, the vampirebegrudgingly rehashed the details of hersad, storied past. Oliver took note of hersquared jaw and the stern, even cadenceof her voice. Her eyes looked glazed over,her face void of emotion. She told him allabout her life before she’d been turnedincluding her father’s unspeakabletreachery and Christine’s friendship andfidelity. Much of it, Oliver had alreadyheard from Eva and Andreas. Yet hearingthe specifics first hand made Oliver feelsullen and sick to his stomach. While hewasn’t a parent, he couldn’t imagine afather’s blatant disregard for his ownchild. Sad but true, life’s unfortunatecircumstances had led to two distinct

things: the vampire’s genuine hatredtoward men and an inclination to keep heremotions at bay. Both of thosecharacteristics, Oliver understood well.

Once Anaïs’s oral history veeredtoward her time at Moulin Rouge, he sawher eyes light up. It was obvious thatdance had saved her from a lifetime oflonely discontent. Also, he could tell bythe way her curves swayed to the sound ofmusic and how her body had responded asthey’d danced. However, Pierre’s twistedromantic fixation, compounded by her bestfriend’s sudden death, forced her intosolitude once again.

Oliver squeezed his lover’s hand,the one that still lingered on his chest.“Thank you for trusting me. Pierre soundslike one sick son of a bitch. Unfortunately,

we haven’t been able to gather much intelon him. He keeps a fairly low profile. Canyou think of anything we may havemissed? A hobby or favorite pastime,perhaps?”

Anaïs chuckled, her head jostlingheartily as she laughed. “Pierre spends hisfree time drinking, gambling, andscamming for chicks. That’s about it.”

“That much, I gathered. But can yoube a bit more specific? Does he hang outat sleazy strip joints? Old fashionedpubs?”

“Not a chance. Pierre’s got ashitload of money and he likes to flaunt it.He’d most likely frequent an exclusive,members-only gentlemen’s club. But fromwhat I hear, he’s turned into a bit of asnob. He won’t want to rub elbows with

just anyone. It’d have to be a place run bythe undead.”

“That’s a start. I’ll give Eva andAndreas a call and see if they’ve got anyleads. In the meantime, it’s back to bed foryou. The sun will be up soon.”

Once back in his office, Oliverturned on his laptop and logged into thevideo conference program he and Eva hadagreed to utilize in case they needed toconsult during her trip. He hated to disrupther honeymoon, but he had no otherrecourse. He was at his wits end andneeded to pick her brain. As far as heknew, an upscale gentleman’s club forbloodsuckers didn’t exist.

Soon an image of Eva popped up onthe computer monitor. She sat in a simplewooden chair with Andreas behind her,

straddling her rear. Their hands restedcomfortably next to the keyboard, fingersentwined.

“Hey boss. How’s the investigationgoing?” Eva asked, her cheek nuzzled inthe crook of her husband’s neck. The twoof them seemed happy, like the pictureperfect newlywed couple.

“Not so great,” Oliver said,scrubbing his hand over his face. “We’repretty much at a dead end in terms ofleads. I was hoping you two would beable to help.”

“Sure, anything you need.” Andreasturned his genuinely handsome smiletoward the screen. “Anaïs is family and Iappreciate you looking out for her. ThisPierre guy sounds like some piece ofwork.”

“He is.” Oliver tapped his fingertipsagainst his jaw, something he’d beenprone to do in times of nervousness ordeep contemplation. “He’s left a trail ofbloody, dismembered bodies in his wake.Anaïs seems to think he might be intosomething a bit kinkier than most. Haveeither of you heard inklings of anunderground vampire BDSM club?”

Oliver smirked as he observed theknowing glance shared between husbandand wife. “Go ahead. Tell him.” Evagroaned as she wriggled in Andreas’sarms, then pivoted her head and planted aloving kiss to the corner of his lip.

Andreas cleared his throat, shiftingin the chair behind his mate. “I know ofsuch a place. The club is called Blood &Bondage and it’s rumored to be located

somewhere onPrince Streetin suburban SoHo.”

Oliver tilted his head sideways andstared at the computer monitor, completelyperplexed. He couldn’t imagine that Evawould be caught dead in a joint like that.But hell, he supposed being married to avampire forced her to live life on theedge.

“What?” Eva said, furrowing herbrow in question. “I’ve, no we’ve neverbeen there, right honey?”

“No way, dude. I’m not into that sortof thing. But one of my bartenders, BobbyDuBois, has been known to frequent theestablishment with a couple of hisgirlfriends.”

“Girlfriends?” Oliver wasn’t sure ifhe’d heard Andreas right.

“Yes, girlfriends.” The vampireconfirmed Oliver’s suspicions with a nodof his head. “Savannah and Sienna aretwins. The three of them have got anunusual arrangement. They could probablyget you in, if you want?”

“That’d be great. Have him give mea call. The sooner, the better.”

“Will do,” Andreas said with asalute. “I’ll talk to you soon.” Then, thescreen went blank.

Anaïs at a BDSM club? Now that’ssomething I want to see.

Chapter Eleven

Pushing the Boundaries

Anaïs tumbled into the shower theminute the sun had set. She hated to washaway Oliver’s delicious masculine scentlingering on her skin. Still, the hot spray ofwater felt good on her stiff, overworkedlimbs. She hadn’t slept well at all.Throughout the day, she’d lounged in bed,falling in and out of sleep. Every time sheclosed her eyes, thoughts of her andOliver’s lovemaking flashed through her

mind. But those luscious memoriesweren’t what kept her awake. On thecontrary, it was the glint of a knife and theimage of an unknown woman’s disfiguredface that refused to let her get any rest.

Anaïs closed her eyes and laid herforehead against the cool stone tiles of theshower stall. She couldn’t take much moreof Pierre’s games. She might as well packup and go home before anyone else gothurt. Unfortunately, the BPA was nowinvolved and they wouldn’t let her simplywalk away.

From behind her, Anaïs heard thepane of the glass door slide open. Shedidn’t have to glance in that direction inorder to discern who it was. Oliver’sdistinct musky aroma combined with thesteam of the shower proved to be a heady,

intoxicating blend. At that moment, sexwould have been good. A welcomedistraction, at the very least.

Oliver, it seemed, had other meansat his disposal to help take her mind offthe inevitable. With both hands, hereached for her shoulders, kneading thetight, fatigued muscles underneath the skin.He pressed his palms into her malleableflesh, loosening the bulge of knots that hadformed there. The tension in her body hadevolved into an ugly, palpable beast. Withhis help, her twisted joints somewhatrelented. Then Oliver used the tips of hisfingers to run up and down the length ofher spine. The sensation caused Anaïs toshiver, inevitably wiggling her backsideagainst his firm erection.

Oliver reared back slightly. He

shifted his weight from one foot to theother, then leaned his head close, placinga feather-light kiss to her exposed throat.“Sorry, love. Playtime is going to have towait a bit. We’ve got places to go andpeople to see.”

“What do you mean?” Anaïs asked,her interest piqued.

“Eva and Andreas gave me a lead.If the rumors are true, there’s a club thatlets vampires explore a whole slew ofdeviant desires. Shall we scope it out?”

“Oh! That sounds like fun.”“Glad you think so. Now let’s finish

cleaning you up.” Oliver grabbed a loofahthat hung from a hook, and poured adollop of liquid soap in the center of it.He used the sponge to caress Anaïs’ssensitive skin, lathering her breasts and

belly with suds that smelled of lavenderand mint. Then his hand moved lower,tracing the curvature of her ass and the nubof her raw, swollen clit. She moaned,reveling in the feel of the stiff bristlesagainst her clamoring bundle of nerves.

“Recline your head. Let me washyour hair.”

His fingers slid through her damptresses, moistening the ends under thepenetrating heat of the spray. Pouringshampoo into his palm, he worked theliquid into a rich lather and applied it toher scalp. Anaïs groaned, then relaxedagainst her lover’s broad shoulder whilehis nails gently manipulated the folliclesof her hair. She knew that Oliver hadn’tmeant the gesture to be erotic. Butnonetheless, it turned out to be one of the

most sensual experiences she’d everendured. When he was through, he toweldried her body and left her alone to getdressed. Anaïs had never felt more needyor bereft.

The outfit he’d picked out for herdidn’t help the situation much. It was a redlatex cat suit with zippers conspicuouslysewn into all the right locales. There wasa long rectangular opening that spannedfrom crotch to rear, and two others shapedlike spheres that encircled her smallbreasts. The cat o’ nine tails Oliver hadbought for her had been set just to the leftof the sleek ensemble.

Pushing the boundaries, are we?Anaïs said to herself at the same timeOliver sauntered back into the room.

“We have to. Playing the role of

dominant and submissive is a must. Thistime, you’ll get to tie me up,” Oliver saidas he shot her a wickedly sexy grin.

“All’s fair in love and war, baby.What’s this club called anyway?” Anaïsinquired out of sheer curiosity.

“Blood & Bondage. Rather fitting,isn’t it?

****

Bobby DuBois met them by the curbon the corner of Prince and MercerStreets. Located in the basement of abuilding owned by a prominent New York

CPA, they descended the steps and waitedin front of an unmarked entrance. Alongwith Oliver and Anaïs, Bobby’s twingirlfriends, Savannah and Sienna, taggedalong too. Their golden-blonde hair andhourglass figures were certain to turn theheads of bloodsuckers on the hunt forhuman companionship.

The vampire who ushered theminside was a burly fellow with a belly likeBuddha. He smiled as Bobby passed by,no doubt familiar with the double troublethat often accompanied him. However, itwas Oliver who drew the most attentiondressed as her super-submissive stud.When the doorman saw him, his eyessprang open in surprise. Who wouldn’thave gawked at a man dressed so docileand domesticated? He wore a pair of tight

jeans sans shirt and a black, spiky collarattached with a chain to his mistress’voluptuous hip.

So that no one would recognize him,Oliver had shaved his head bald andslipped on some dark colored contacts tomask the brilliant blue of his eyes. Thewell-defined ridges of his muscular torsohad been smothered in shimmering bodyoil. He’d clearly gone to a lot of trouble totransform his appearance on account ofthis role. Good thing, too. After all, Anaïsknew that her lover’s name and face wereon vampire hit lists in every major citynestled along the Eastern seaboard.

Once they’d passed snuff with thebouncer, the two groups parted ways,Oliver and Anaïs headed in one directionand the threesome in another. As the two

lovebirds meandered through the crowd,Anaïs could feel several sets of menacingred orbs following their every move. Theywatched and waited to see exactly whattype of tricks the dominatrix had in storefor her sexy indentured servant.

Other than the barrage of crimsonstares, Anaïs found it difficult to make outfaces. She did, however, recognize theguttural moans and groans of pleasure thatcame from every corner of the room. Inaddition, the loud bass of hard rockpounded against the walls, making thefoundation of the building rattle and hum.The place had been painted in black withonly a few dim strobe lights that flashedon and off at intermittent rates.

Using the leash he’d insisted sheemploy, Anaïs paraded her boy toy across

the length of the room. She only releasedhim long enough to shackle his arms andlegs to the hooks that hung from the wallsand low-lying ceiling.

“Are you sure we can do this?”Anaïs asked with trepidation. She wasn’tnecessarily keen on public exhibition,especially since they had to make their actappear legitimate. If their resolvewavered for even a second, thebloodsuckers in the club would seethrough it and surely pounce.

“I’m up to the task. I promise to be agood little sub,” he whispered huskily intoher ear, making goose bumps form onalready sensitive skin. “What about you?”

“This isn’t generally my scene. ButI’m a dancer. I’m used to being on stage.”Anaïs drew back. She stared into the

depths of her lover’s eyes, gauging hismood. “You do realize, I’ll have to biteyou. If not, these fuckers won’t buy thecharade.”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders, thenhanded Anaïs the flogger he’d kepthuddled at his side. “No safe word, eh?Well, I suppose you’ve earned a bit ofretribution.”

Anaïs squared her shoulders, thenyanked on the chains that bound him toensure they were secure. She had to makeher role as dominatrix seem real. After abrief moment of hesitation, she struttedaround his tightly-coiled body, her perusalgluttonous and intense. At least she hopedthat’s the way it looked. As she encircledhim, the cat o’ nine tails she held in herhand lashed at the rippled muscle on his

chest. Damn, she found Oliver impossibleto resist. Once again, the urge to ravagehim had snuck up on her. There wassomething about his refined masculinitythat kept her perpetually ensnared. God,she couldn’t wait to sample the rare, well-preserved vintage of his blood.

Standing behind him, Anaïs rakedher razor-tipped fingernails down thecurve of his spine. Then she cracked thewhip again and watched his body wince.Her hand drifted up, two bloody fingersteetered on the ridge of her lower lip. Afew seconds later, her tongue slithered outand sucked the rich, red deliciousness offthe fingertips.

That tiny tidbit of her lover’s lifeessence drove Anaïs’s libido into an all-out frenzy. Moisture from her womb

soaked through the slick fabric of herclothing. The warm, slippery wetness sliddown her inner thighs. Her hardenednipples sprang to life, rubbing painfullyagainst the clingy latex cat suit. Shewanted to tear open the sphere-shapedzippers and thrust her bosom into his face.But with an audience in tow, forcing hersub to do it with his teeth would make fora much more convincing show.

At his mistress’ decree, Oliverlowered his head and obliged, unzippingthe fabric that covered each breast in onefell swoop. His puckered mouth took oneplump areola into his mouth, while herolled the roughness of his weatheredpalm over the other.

“Suck harder, damn it! For Christ’ssake, do as I command.” Anaïs screamed

loud enough for the masses to overhear.Oliver’s low rumble reverberated

against her skin. No doubt he was turnedon, almost as much as she. With theirbodies in such close proximity, she couldhear the man’s heart beating in his chest.His carotid artery pulsed wildly on theside of his neck and she could no longerwar with her instincts.

Anaïs felt her sharp, serratedcanines emerge, ready to pierce herlover’s supple flesh. With his mouth stillsuckling her breast, she reached down andclasped his enormous cock through hisjeans, stroking its length until he purredlike a cat. Once in the throes of pleasure,she sank her fangs deep, siphoning hisblood greedily.

Oliver bucked slightly, then groaned

in a clear attempt to remain in control. Sheknew it must have taken everything he hadnot to yank on the chains and pull out thestake attached to his hip. To hell with thefact that her bite had made both of themfeel good.

Anaïs pulled back, releasing thesuction from their pleasure racked bodies.Briefly, she gazed at his face. His eyesstill swirled with sexual intent. The flushof his cheeks and the sweat on his browserved as proof that Oliver, too, hadenjoyed their display.

Anaïs growled as her tongue sweptover the twin pinpricks she’d left in hisneck in order to cauterize the open wound.Her shy insecurities had been replaced bydesire. “Don’t move, lover boy. Theshow’s not over yet.”

Chapter Twelve

The Voyeur

“Be careful, Dom. Another stunt likethat and I’m likely to soil my boxershorts.”

“Don’t you dare. Only I can tell youwhen to come,” Anaïs snapped the spinesof the rose-tipped flogger along the flankof his torso. Oliver flinched, themomentum of his body causing him toshrink back against the wall.

The dominatrix swooped in during

her lover’s apparent moment of weakness.She seized the waistband of his pants, andtugged on the buttons until the head of hisshaft peeked out from the top of hisboxers. Already, Anaïs could see a dropof thick, creamy seed resting on the tip. Atthe same time, fluids once again moistenedher crotch.

She shoved Oliver’s jeans to hisknees, then bent down to lick the speck ofcum onto the surface of her puckered lips.In response, her lover slammed his eyesshut and gritted his teeth. He was on theverge to ejaculation, she could tell.

The flavor of his semen madeAnaïs’s inner muscles clench, hungry forher own earth-shattering release. Shecrossed her legs and swiveled her feet,grinding her ass against Oliver’s stiff

erection. With two fingers, she massagedthe nub of her feverish core. Then sheturned her head and pressed her mouthagainst her lover’s. The kiss wasdesperate, agonizingly intense. Shegroaned into his mouth. The need to sheathher pussy on Oliver’s cock decimated herrigid control.

Slow and deliberate, Anaïsunzipped the flap that kept her covered up,letting the cool air hit her hot, aching clit.She rose up on her tiptoes and rotated herhips. The subtle movement parted herfolds, and then enveloped his shaft withher femininity.

Oliver snarled, the sound akin to anangry, wild beast. With his hands and feetstill restrained, he pushed off from thewall. He pounded into her, lunging back

and forth until Anaïs’s sex clamped downon him with a tight grip.

“It feels so damn good,” thevampire moaned as her hips continued tothrust.

“Please. Tell me it’s okay to come,”Oliver ground out through pursed lips, hisjaw clenched as if wired shut. “I can’thold out any longer.”

“Oh God! Yes.” Anaïs screamed asher pussy shot backwards with one lastdeep thrust. She felt his cock throb andpulse. Then the spray of his seed explodedinside her, painting her walls with white-hot heat.

With sweat dripping from theirtorsos, Anaïs drooped down low andhugged her head between her knees. Shegasped for air, unable to breathe. Behind

her, Oliver’s arms and legs went limp,dangling as if he were a fish on a hook.After what seemed like an eternity, heregained his footing and pulled out of her.The absence of his body forced Anaïs tocry out. Suddenly, she felt empty andexposed. The glare of more than a dozenred vampire eyes bore into her once again.Not a soul in the room had missed amoment of their wanton display.

“Let’s go find Bobby and the twins.I’m in need of a stiff drink,” Oliver said,while Anaïs put the remnants of hertattered clothing back into place. Then,she removed the chains that bound him tothe wall, and readjusted the collar andleash around his neck.

“Fine by me. Besides, you’ll need ababysitter while I go clean up in the ladies

room,” Anaïs said, setting herself back onher wobbly feet as she led her loveracross the dance floor to the bar.

From the corner of her eye, shespied the threesome. Bobby sat on a stoolat a table by the entrance of the club, onetwin glued to each of his well-tonedthighs. It was hard to tell the two girlsapart, excerpt for the unique ensemblesthey chose to wear. Savannah wore ascoop neck purple jersey knit dress withmatching sling-back heels, while Siennapreferred a backless black sequined miniand boots that rose passed her knees.Although their style of dress appearedcompletely different, one thing provedcertain; neither of them could get enoughof Bobby DuBois’ southern boy goodlooks and vampire charm. They whispered

in his ears and pawed at his rock-hardphysique almost incessantly.

“Excuse me,” Anaïs said as sheapproached the group. She cleared herthroat, aware of Oliver’s hard, masculineframe at her back as he came up behindher. “You two wouldn’t happen to knowwhere I can find the ladies’ room, wouldyou?”

Anaïs needed to put some distancebetween the human lover on her heels.Even though she’d ridden his cock like abucking bronco a few minutes before, herbody still yearned for his touch. Alreadyshe could feel the heat of her desireradiate between her legs. By no meanswas their fuck session through.

The twins ignored Anaïs’s questionat first, but then Bobby lifted his head and

met her gaze. He slapped his girlfriendson their asses, then pushed off from hisseat. “Hand me your boy toy’s lead andI’ll keep an eye on him while you girls arein the can.”

****Pierre remained hidden in the dark

shadows of the club. He’d been watchingand waiting, entranced by each sultrymove his long-time lover had made. Theminute he spotted Anaïs step into thedimly lit room, he found he couldn’t lookaway. Mesmerized by her beauty andunsurpassed sexual prowess, he took inevery nuance of her being: the wild,untamed curls that outlined her face. The

long, billowy elegance of a dancer’sframe. Her small, firm breasts. In twoseconds flat, the woman’s physicalappearance had him horny and hard. Nomatter how long it’d been since he’dfucked her, his cock responded the sameway it always had. But along with desire,rage brewed inside him too.

Pierre noticed her as she prancedacross the dance floor, flaunting the freshpiece of meat at the end of a short chain. Itwas the same pathetic human she’d beenfrolicking around with for the last coupleof weeks. The sadistic demonstrationthey’d put on for the crowd helped festerPierre’s strong urge to torture and maim. Itwouldn’t be the first time Anaïs’s actionshad caused him to lose his head. Threefemale vampire fledglings could attest to

that, if they were alive to speak.Whenever his former flame was near, hehad a habit of doing things he’d laterregret.

Tonight, Pierre felt like a voyeuronce again. He gawked at the femalevampire as she shackled her disobedientsub to the wall, then beat him with a whip,and stole his precious blood. It remindedhim of years passed, when he and Anaïswould roam the streets of Paris in searchof willing prey. Even then, he’d loved towatch her seduce helpless human victims.More than a century later, it was still thebiggest turn on of his life.

Yet at the same time, seeing Anaïsscrew another man’s brains out madejealousy and rage bubble up inside of him.His blood boiled and his eyes narrowed

as their color shifted from deep brown tocrimson red. Pierre wanted to wrenchOliver Polinski by his chains, then sink hisfangs into his pulsing jugular and end hismiserable life. The man didn’t deserve tolive, not after the insult he’d caused Pierreby toying with his mate. He intended tokill the bastard. But first, he needed to getAnaïs alone somewhere; if he didn’t tieher up and fuck her senseless, then anotherbloody, dismembered newborn wouldsoon litter the New York streets.

How can I possibly get Anaïs alonewhen Polinski won’t let her out of hissight?

Suddenly, Pierre had an idea.Flagging down the waitress who nudgedher way through through the crowd servingblood out of test tubes, he flashed the

petite brunette a sexy half-grin. He washandsome and irresistible, he knew. Withhis dark eyes and obsidian locks tied backwith a simple leather strap, the youngfemale vampire doling out drinks couldn’tturn him down, no matter how hard shetried.

“Can I get you anything, sweetie?”the woman asked, batting her eyelashes athim flirtatiously.

Pierre’s grin widened, turning into afull-blown smile. His hand snaked out andwrapped around to squeeze her plump asscheek. “I’ll take two of those,” he said ashis eyebrows rose in expectation. He’dcarefully chosen his words so that thewaitress wasn’t sure if he referred to herderrière or the vials of blood she held.Then he set a hundred dollar bill on the

tray she balanced in the center of herpalm. “But I’ll need another favor first.”

“Sure. I’m yours to command.” Hereyes widened in surprise as she focusedon the generous tip he’d left her.

“There’s a man near the bar dressedas a sub. He’s got a cell phone in the backpocket of his jeans.” Pierre pointed inOliver’s direction. A few minutes earlier,he’d spied Anaïs and two other womenheaded toward the ladies’ room. It waseither now or never. “I need that phone,but you’ll have to be discreet. He’s herewith some fairly shrewd vamps.”

“Watch this,” the waitress said witha wink. Moving through the mass ofsweaty, sex soaked bodies, she gentlybumped people out of her path. “Excuseme. Excuse me,” Pierre heard her say.

From Pierre’s location in the rearright-hand corner of the club, he could seethe entire exchange. The cocktail serversmiled as she approached the two menhovered over the small round tableenjoying a round of drinks; one of themheld a glass filled with what appeared tobe whiskey while the other downed a shotof plasma.

With the skill of a master thief, thewoman pawned the cell phone out ofOliver’s back pocket, apologizingprofusely for knocking into him andspilling a drink onto his bare back. Sheslipped the phone into the apron tied toher waist, then grabbed a handful ofnapkins to wipe away the red streakdripping down his spine before continuingon her way.

Well done. Well done indeed,Pierre thought to himself. The only thingleft to do was prepare the room wherehe’d carry out Anaïs’s much anticipatedtorture.

Chapter Thirteen

The Cooling Off Period

Anaïs followed the twins into theladies room. While they both used thefacilities, she, on the other hand, huggedthe rim of the sink. Her breath quickenedas sweat from her latex cat suit stuck toher flushed skin. Turning on the faucet, shesplashed cold water onto her face andtried to calm down. In the background,Savannah and Sienna’s soft giggles barelyregistered in her mind. If they’d been

talking to her, she hadn’t heard a word theblonde bimbos had said.

Her thoughts were preoccupied withOliver and the performance they’d givenfor a room full of sick, sadistic vampires.

Never in a million years wouldAnaïs have expected to find a man quitelike Oliver Polinski. One minute, he’dshackled her to a bed and played her bodylike a fiddle. Then next, he let her serve asDom to his uber-obedient sub. The wholefiasco with Pierre had only been aconvenient excuse, she knew. She’d letOliver weasel his way into her pantiesbecause that was exactly where she’dwanted him. Hell, they’d only hadintercourse once. Yet those fifteen minutesplastered against the wall of the club hadbeen the most intense she could have ever

imagined.But it wasn’t only the mind-blowing

sex they’d shared. The emotions Oliverbrought out of her had been buried deep.With him, she felt safe, yet vulnerable.Powerful, but not quite strong enough tomake him bend to her will. He made herfeel things she hadn’t experienced incenturies, the consequences of whichforced her to re-think the course of herlife.

On the outside, Anaïs’s outer shellwas as hard as nails. Inside proved to be awhole different story. In fact, she was anemotional wreck. Preying on men,especially those who reminded her of herloathsome patriarch, had become a copingmechanism, a twisted method she’demployed to ensure that no one ever got

too close. It was a character flaw, sheknew, but one she couldn’t cut loose.

Somehow, Oliver had begun tobreak down the barriers she’d built. Hepushed the boundaries, threatening tobreach her stone cold heart. Day after day,he demolished the walls that tooklifetimes to construct. The ones that keptpeople out and that attacked those whodare tried to bridge them.

Again, Anaïs’s instincts told her sheshould flee. Get away from Oliver beforethings got out of hand. With her departure,Pierre would disappear back into theshadows as well. At least, that’s what herhead told her she should do. Her heart, onthe other hand, nagged at her to stay, faceher demons, and see how everythingwould turn out with Oliver.

Run, you coward, Anaïs screamedto herself.

The words reverberated in her headthe moment Anaïs heard Bobby’sgirlfriends exit the bathroom stalls. Shestared into the mirror and smiled back atthem, shattering the myth that vampireshad no reflection. Then she grabbed apaper towel from the dispenser to dry thedripping water from her cheeks, andstepped out of the way to let them use thesink.

“You okay? You look a little pale,”Savannah asked her, lifting the back of herhand to Anaïs’s forehead.

“Sis, leave her be,” Sienna said asshe swatted her sibling’s hand from thevampire’s face. “Can’t you tell she’s justtrying to get her bearings? After the show

the two of them put on out there, she needsa few minutes to settle back down.”

“Sienna’s right. But thanks for theconcern,” Anaïs said while she smootheddown the frazzled curls that sprang fromher scalp. Then she undid the zipperabove her right hip and took out the vial oflip gloss she’d kept hidden there. Sheapplied a thin sheen to her lips, thenshoved the tube back into her pocket.

At the same time, Anaïs felt her cellphone vibrate. She pulled it out andglanced at the display. Oliver had sent hera text message.

Ha! He can’t stand being away fromme for long.

“Speak of the devil,” Anaïs saidwith a shake of her head. “Oliver just sentme a text. He wants me to meet him in

some room. Have either of you heardanything about the Tunnel of Torture?”

“Oh, kinky. But I’m not surprisedafter what we witnessed before.”Savannah sported a wide, school girl grin.

Sienna shot her sister an irritatedscowl, the shoved her to the side with aslight push of the hand. It was clear,Savannah had a case of diarrhea of themouth and it annoyed the hell out of hertwin.

“Let me apologize for my sister’sinsensitivity. She’s a reporter. She’s usedto cutting straight to the chase. The Tunnelof Torture is one of three private roomstucked into the back of the club. We’venever been inside. But if the rumors aretrue, some hard core masochistic shit goesdown within those four walls.”

“Really?” Again, Oliver was full ofsurprises. His ingenuity never ceased toamaze her. “Okay, well it appears I mightbe tied up for the next few hours. If I don’tsee you gals later, it was nice meeting youboth.”

“Nice to meet you too, sweetie. I’msure we’ll see each other again soon.”Both women approached her. Theywrapped their arms hesitantly around hershoulders in an awkward sort of embrace.Anaïs’s body stiffened, not prepared forthe unsolicited contact perpetuated by thehug. Nonetheless, she smiled and pattedeach woman on the head before theymoved toward the door.

Upon exiting the restroom, the twinsturned right and disappeared back into thecrowd. Anaïs went left into the dark

recesses of the club. At the end of a long,windy hallway, three doors stood side byside. The one in the middle had the wordsTunnel of Torture etched with gold leaf inthe center. Above the door knob, therewas a keypad. A series of digits needed tobe entered in order to gain access to theroom. Luckily, Oliver had included thesecret code in his text.

Anaïs punched in the numbers andheard the lock click. She shoved open thedoor, which expanded into a small waitingroom. A table and chair had been setagainst the wall. Walking toward thetable, she noticed a piece of stationeryplaced on the edge. She picked up thepage and read the typed message.

Welcome to the Tunnel of Love.Go inside. Then slip on the

blindfold and chain yourself up.I’ll be there soon.

On the far side of the room, therewas another door. This one had beenforged with solid, reinforced steel. If hertheory proved true, it’d be sound prooftoo. Her hands pushed against the heavymetal, slowly forcing the door ajar untilshe could slide through the crevice she’dmade.

Once inside, Anaïs had to duckdown and almost crawl through the low-lying rock that served as a makeshiftceiling. It was made of what appeared to

be red desert rock, with shards of cone-shaped stalactites that hung from above.Soon the tunnel unfurled into a spacious,torch lit cavern. Whips and chains of allshapes and sizes dangled from hookschiseled into the stone. A twelve foot byfifteen foot wire cage sat in its center,with what appeared to be an archaicguillotine perched inside it on the floor.

Her pussy clenched at the thought ofwhat Oliver would do to her, chained tothe contraption with her thighs spreadwide. Thinking about it made her loinsburn with the anticipation of his greedy,demanding touch.

Anaïs straightened her posture. Thenshe unpeeled the cat suit plastered to herskin and hurled it to the ground. She worenothing at all underneath, and the cool

temperature in the room caused her fleshto form goose bumps, including on the tipsof her breasts.

As Anaïs moved within arm’sdistance of the cage, she saw a swath ofred silk material fastened to its barbedwire entrance. She untied the soft clothand carried it with her inside, spying theguillotine up close. It was made of deep,rich mahogany. Two curved pieces ofwood had been set at eye level, crafted tocradle a human’s delicate head. Abovethat, a sharp blade was kept suspended inmidair with the help of a heavy weight andpulley system.

With this monstrous apparatus,Oliver could definitely wear me out.

Anaïs stepped up to the guillotineand arranged her body between the two

rigid planks. In that position, the nakedflesh of her derrière was arched towardthe ceiling as if it were being offered upas a sacrifice to the gods. She slipped onewrist into an iron shackle, then used theother to drape the blindfold over her eyes,and secure it at the back of her head.Finally, she slid her second wrist intoplace and took a deep breath.

Minutes ticked by as she preparedherself for Oliver’s arrival. The waitturned out to be pure torture. Anaïs’snipples inadvertently rubbed against themetal hardware that had been used toassemble the contraption. The twinmounds dangled in the air, chafing theirtaut peaks with each agonizing shift of herweight. The draft from the air conditionerwhipped across them too, causing a

reaction to detonate inside her womb. Herclitoris throbbed as the cooling systemrattled and hummed. She wished she couldreach down and relieve the ache betweenher legs.

Damn it! That bastard better get heresoon.

Chapter Fourteen

Tunnel of Torture

“I’m gonna step outside and takethis call,” Bobby said, staring at thescreen on his cell phone. “It’s Andreas.Keep an eye out for the twins, if youwould.”

“Sure. Not a problem,” Oliverreplied as he stuck his hand behind him,cupping the back pocket of the jeans hewore in search of his own phone.

Shit! The blasted thing was gone.

He must’ve dropped it while Anaïs hadhim distracted. Without a doubt, theirsexual escapade had rocked him to thecore. But now wasn’t the time toreminisce. Pushing the memory of theinterlude to the back of his mind, he madea b-line through a throng of bloodsuckers.Eventually, he found the spot where hislover had left him tied up. He scanned thefloor and felt around in the darkness, butcame up empty handed. He’d lost it; it wasnowhere in sight. But who could blamehim for misplacing his cell phone? Godknows, he’d been otherwise preoccupied.

Resigned to the fact that’d it bedifficult to locate the device in the drearyinterior of the club, Oliver strode backtoward the table. In mid-stride, heinadvertently bumped into Savannah and

Sienna.“Hello ladies,” he yelled over the

sharp beats of the music. He put his handto his ear, gesturing that the vampire hadleft to talk on the phone. “Bobby’s outfront chatting to Andreas. Where’sAnaïs?”

The twins looked back and forthbetween them, then Savannah shot him asly smile and spoke up. “She got the sexylittle hints you sent her. I’m almostpositive she’s in one of the three privaterooms in the back waiting for you.”

Sexy little hints? What on earth wasshe talking about? Before he could openhis mouth to ask, he noticed a scuffle thathad broken out a short distance away.Two male vampires stood peering at oneanother, an eerie red haze of anger

surrounded them. Their broad, hulkingchests stood fluffed up, ready to battle forproper pecking order. A petite blondewith a pixie haircut was flanked betweenthem, trying to dissipate the tension.

“Let’s get you two to safety,” Oliversaid, ushering them toward the exit. “Itlooks like things are about to become a bitprecarious in here.” He escorted the twinsto the door, throwing Bobby a silent peacesign when he saw that the vampire wasstill engaged in conversation.

Oliver walked the perimeter of thenight club, doing his damnedest to lookinconspicuous and avoid the confrontationthat brewed in the middle of the floor.Still, he felt a roomful of eyes focused onhis bare, oily chest and the wound Anaïshad left on his partially exposed throat.

She’d used her saliva to jump start thehealing process. But the two pinpricks thatmarred the flesh there still left a visiblemark on his skin. The spiked collar andleash around his neck didn’t help much toconceal it. Nonetheless, he tried to ignoretheir blatant stares, while winding throughthe maze to the far end of the building.

A few feet past the restrooms, therewas a long hallway. Oliver followed theelaborate pattern of twists and turns untilhe came to three doors set in a row, oneright after the other. Each room waslabeled with its own snazzy,sadomasochistic catch phrase: Tunnel ofTorture, Sadist Salon, and BondageBoudoir, respectively. If only Oliverknew which one Anaïs had ventured into.

After their public display earlier, it

didn’t seem entirely farfetched that Anaïswould invite him to partake in thepleasures of the flesh inside one of theprivate suites. Still, he remainedsomewhat puzzled. What sexy little hintshad Savannah been referring to? Oliverprayed to the gods that Pierre Gaucherhadn’t cooked up some charade to get thefemale vamp alone. It did, after all, seema bit fishy that Anaïs had disappeared atabout the same time his cell phone cameup missing. Maybe it was more than acoincidence.

Nonetheless, Anaïs could certainlytake care of herself. She’d established thatthe other day with her attempt to flee theFour Seasons Hotel. She’d knocked one ofhis men out cold, then stabbed Bobby inthe throat with the spike of her boot. If she

got caught up in Pierre’s maniacal web,she’d have a decent shot at survival.

Thus far, Anaïs had turned out to bea complicated patchwork, one Oliveryearned to unravel. He’d expected thevampire to project certain innatecharacteristics common to her breed.Sharp as nails wit and off the chartssensual prowess to name just two. Butthose were the personality traits shewanted everyone to see. Deep down, sheemanated warmth and emotionalsensitivity that as far as Oliver wasconcerned, no other bloodsucker he’d methad ever possessed. Considering thatOliver had gone toe to toe with hundredsof members of the undead race, that factproved rather impressive.

Anaïs had turned out to be

something he hadn’t expected. In allfrankness, Oliver liked her. Both in andout of a bed. But at that moment, hishormones had to take a back seat. He wasworried for her safety and needed toconcentrate on pinpointing her exactlocation.

Oliver tried the knob on all threedoors, although each of them was lockedtight. The only way to access the interiorwould be to enter a numeric code into thekeypad to trigger the release of its securitymechanism. More crucial than that, hedidn’t know which threshold Anaïs hadpassed. If she’d intended to rendezvouswith Oliver, she’d have no doubt told himwhich one and provided the digitsnecessary to gain access inside.

The more Oliver stood there, the

antsier he became. Resting his foreheadagainst the door frame, he tried to hone inon the unique telepathic connection heshared with Anaïs. As long as sheallowed him to, he could pick up fleetingthoughts that popped into her mind. Ingeneral, proximity didn’t matter.However, the fact that Oliver hadn’tdetected a single snippet of herunequivocal voice for close to half anhour didn’t bode well for her safety.

With his brow still pressed againstthe partition, Oliver’s temples started tothrob. The tempo mimicked the loud bassof the acid rock that shook the plaster offthe walls. Pain shot through him, from themiddle of his forehead to the back of hisskull, a consequence of trying too hard todecipher her signature siren call. He

needed to find somewhere quiet to think.Only then would Oliver have a chance atfinding his mate.

Mate? How that particular word hadwoven its way through his subconscious,Oliver couldn’t tell. Was that what Anaïswas to him? In that instant, he didn’t havethe luxury of dwelling on the possibility. Ifwhat he feared most turned out to bereality, he had precious minutes to locateher before Pierre taught her the truemeaning of torture. Then, it wouldn’tmatter what he felt for her; she’d be longdead.

Glancing to the right, Oliver spiedanother door down the corridor. The wordExit hovered above it in bright red lights.He needed to get away in order to drownout all the other noise and listen for

Anaïs’s voice. Oliver shoved open thedoor, emerging from the shadows and intothe dark, empty alley behind the club. Fora few minutes, he paced the short distancebetween Blood & Bondage and thebuilding next to it, trying to clear his head.Then, he hunkered down next to adumpster and closed his eyes. Taking inseveral deep inhalations of air through hisnose, he attempted to ignore the pleas ofpleasure coming from the patrons inside.

Fuck me. Feed me. Free me. Achorus of desperate murmurs tunneledthrough his mind. They overpowered hisability to distinguish the myriad of soundsthat echoed around him. But the slow,deliberate breaths soon helped. He felt thetightness in his shoulders relinquish itsunwavering grip. The convoluted chaos of

his thoughts subsided too, allowing him tofocus his energy on the frequency ofAnaïs’s familiar pitch.

Go fuck yourself! I’ll never submit.I’d rather die first. His lover’s angrytirade came through loud and clear. Evennow, there are powerful people lookingfor me. My godson is the leader of theNew York City coven. He won’t let youget away with this.

Fuck! Pierre had gotten to her.Oliver pressed his hands to his eyes as herwords blinded him with rage. His gutinstinct had been to spring to his feet andbust down all three doors until he’drescued the damsel in distress. But heknew that would never work. Thevampires in the club would pounce on himin a heartbeat.

The only option Oliver had left wasto try and communicate with Anaïs throughthe power of thought. Maybe the tendrilsof desire they’d fed these last two weekshad forged a bridge between them, onethat enabled silent communication to runboth ways. Because Anaïs had tasted hisblood, there was a slim possibility thatshe might hear his thoughts. It was a riskymove and he had no guarantee that itwould work. By letting their stream ofconsciousness run rampant, others whoshared his telepathic gift could intercepttheir thoughts and use that information fortheir own gain. Nonetheless, Anaïs wasworth the threat of exposure.

Oliver rested the back of his headagainst the brick building behind him. Hetuned into the once-stilted speech that now

flowed from his lover.Anaïs, baby. Can you hear me? Tell

me where you are. Several nerveshattering seconds passed. Oliver couldn’tpick up on anything, not even the slew offour letter words she’d spewed earlier atPierre. For a while, he didn’t think theconnection was working.

Then a single word whisperedthrough his mind, making the hairs on hisneck stand on edge. Torture. She must betrapped in the Tunnel of Torture.

I’m coming for you. What’s the codefor the door?

Again, not even a hint of his lover’sweak, labored articulation could be heard.Instead, a spasm in his brain triggered anagonizing pain. It rendered him almostcompletely immobile. His muscles flexed

and his vocal cords seized up. Hedropped to his knees, clutching his head inhis hands as an unimaginable afflictionstole his ability to move, let alone speak.

Suddenly, a series of digits zippedthrough his mind one after the other, likethe film strip of a silent motion picture. Aseach number flashed before his eyes, thesoul-wrenching sting forced him to cowerinto a ball, then collapse on top of a heapof smelly, discarded trash.

7, 5, 4, 8, 1.Oliver leapt to his feet, ignoring the

excruciating sensation that consumed himto the core. On his way to the Tunnel ofTorture, he managed to find a pay phone.He called Adam and put in an urgentrequest for reinforcements. Then, he ran tothe door in the center of the hallway and

punched in the five-digit code. Onceinside the tiny receiving room, hehesitated, counting backwards from ten toone. He couldn’t do much to free Anaïswith a pounding headache. Perhaps if hecalmed down a bit and let his adrenalinekick in, the ache in his head wouldsubside.

After a few tumultuous seconds,Oliver could finally think. He palmed hiship and felt the full-size stake taped to hisside. Next, he undid a strap holstered tohis ankle. It held the twin vials of serumthat would temporarily anesthetize hisopponent. If for some reason, he wasn’table to kill the son of a bitch, at least hecould hold him off until back up arrived.

The element of surprise was onOliver’s side. Instead of flinging open the

door of the chamber, he slid through theheavy metal barrier, leaving only a tinycrack exposed. Peering inside, he couldn’tsee much other than a fathomless cavernfilled with red desert rock. But what heheard had been enough to make his bloodrun hot. It was his lover’s desperate plea.His eyes glazed over, all he couldenvision was a deep, crimson haze of fury.

Creeping on the balls of his feet,Oliver tiptoed through the dim lit cave.His back remained pressed firm againstthe smooth stone wall. He looked from leftto right, making sure that no one sprangfrom the shadows and tried to attack. Withthe stake firmly in his grip, he’d be readyto retaliate.

Crouched down low, Oliver made itto the end of the tunnel that opened up into

an expansive underground grotto. Inaddition to the manmade beauty of hissurroundings, he could see Anaïs’s half-naked frame manacled to a guillotine. Hislover’s head and hands were fastened tothe contraption, making it damn nearimpossible for her to budge. Deep, bloodygashes lacerated the normally-pristineskin of her back and buttocks.

“Pierre, why don’t you just kill meand get it over with?” Anaïs pleaded withhim.

“Darling, killing you is the last thingI want,” Pierre laughed, grinningmaniacally. “Those other girls weremerely bait, a strategy I used to reel youin.”

“What is it that you want from me?”“I’ll take nothing less than your

heart and soul.” The madman ground outthe words with another crack of the whip.“And this time, you’ll obey me. Now andwhen we get back home. If not, morepeople will die. Maybe even yourboyfriend. What’s his name again?”

“Don’t touch a hair on Oliver’shead,” Anaïs shouted, yanking on thechains that kept her held in place. “You’llpay if you do.”

“Tsk. Tsk. Somebody’s fallen headover heels for her food.” Pierre movedcloser. He wrapped his arms around herwaist, then used two fingers to pinch thetips of her puckered nipples. “For that,you’ve earned another thirty blisteringlashes.”

Pierre had his back turned as heleaned over their lover’s naked flesh. It

was the perfect time to pounce. Light onhis feet, Oliver lunged for the cage,hurling open the door with barely a sound.Still, the vampire employed superpowerspeed and agility to react on instinct. Likea fly, he swatted the human away. Thestake went flailing through the air as hisbody flew back, ricocheting against thebarbed wire mesh of the cage.

“You’re a dead man!” Pierrescreamed as he lifted Oliver’s limp frameabove his head, then tossed it nonchalantlyover the top of the roofless metalenclosure. He landed with a thump on thecold, stone tile. Every inch of his bodyached something fierce. No doubt, thebastard had shattered several of his bones.

Shrugging off the pain, Oliver stoodand re-entered the cage, ready for the start

of round two. Thus far, his opponent hadwon round one, but no matter what, he’dpush through the agony until he had thevampire’s head in a sling.

As he stalked toward the brutalmurderer, he heard Anaïs’s weak,breathless voice. “Please. Don’t hurt him,Pierre. I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Too late, my sweet. I let your otherplaymates live. This one, I’m sending tohell.”

He threw Oliver against the fence,holding him suspended off the ground withthe sheer magnitude of his grip.Eviscerating pain shot through the righthalf of his body, and he realized hisshoulder had been lodged against one ofthe jutting barbs. As blood gushed fromthe wound, the vampire’s eyes froze,

shifting from obsidian to red, then backagain. The claws on his fingers elongated,piercing the skin around his victim’s neck.In the next second, Pierre’s incisorsemerged, inches from his enemy’spulsating jugular.

The vampire’s proximity wascrucial, even if it meant letting him take abite out of his flesh. Otherwise, Oliverwouldn’t get close enough to stab him inthe heart with the tranquilizer he’d stuffedinto the pocket of his jeans. Even thoughbloodsuckers were technically considereddead, the organ in their chest was ananomaly. It proved to be the only area ontheir bodies that wasn’t impenetrable.

Without warning, Oliver felt thevampire’s fangs sink deep. The loudsound of the suction pumped through his

veins, reverberating in his ears like thewail of a siren. His eyes fluttered shut as aheady, intoxicating sensation rolled overhim. On the verge of unconsciousness,Oliver reached into his pants and pulledout the vial of paralyzing serum. The tipsof his fingers crawled up Pierre’s cool,shirtless flesh, until they hovered over themuscle directly above his heart.

A moment before his body grewlimp, he raised a weak, shaky hand, thenjabbed the shard of glass into thebloodsucker’s chest. After that, everythingelse went black.

Chapter Fifteen

Coming Home

Oliver squinted as the early morningglint from the sun shone through the gratesof the plantation shutters. A glimpsearound him confirmed that he’d slept in anunfamiliar bed. The walls of the room hadbeen sprayed with a pale shade of blue.Puffy marshmallow-white clouds paintedon top of the base coat, complimenting thetranquility of the luxurious space.

Oliver pulled himself up into a

seated position, the motion of whichforced him to grab hold of his upper armand wince. The pain in his shoulder madehim spasm and moan. He must’ve beenasleep for quite a while, long enough tomake him temporarily forget about theinjury that Pierre had inflicted. As heleaned back against the cushions on thebed, a knock sounded at the door.

“Hey there, boss man.” Eva pokedher head in through a crack in the door.“How you feeling?” Her sympathetic half-smile made him feel all warm and fuzzyinside. Damn, he’d missed his best friendthe last couple of weeks. With hisemotions all jumbled up inside, especiallywhen it came to Anaïs, he needed her tohelp him sort everything out.

“Doing alright, considering I was

bitten by a vampire,” Oliver said with aslight shrug of the shoulders. It was anatural reaction. Still, it made the ache inthat area infinitely worse. “Where am I?”

“Miravale.” Eva said, her bodycringing as the word rolled off her tongue.She had to know that the last place Oliverwould want to be holed up was insideAndreas’ lair. The sprawling Connecticutmansion owned by the Kristopolousfamily hadn’t been where he’d expected tospend his recovery. Eva must have sensedhis obvious discomfort.

“Don’t give me that look,” Eva said,wagging her finger in his face inadmonishment. “Andreas felt responsiblefor your injuries. He wanted to help.”

With a beleaguered sigh, Oliverfinally relented. “I know. It’s just tough to

accept so much change happening at once.First, you marry the leader of the NewYork City coven. Then I meet Anaïs…”

The corners of the huntress’ mouthturned up again and her eyes twinkledbrightly. He could almost see the wheelsspinning in her head. “What’s going onbetween the two of you? It seems to havegone farther than your run of the millvampire investigation. You like her, don’tyou?”

A bundle of nervous energy, Oliverrubbed at his stubbly jaw. I thought I wasthe one with psychic abilities?

Eva had been able to read him sowell, a result of working together side byside for so many years. When it came toher, he couldn’t keep anything a secret.

“Okay, I’ll admit it. The blasted

woman found a way to crawl underneathmy skin,” Oliver said, scrubbing a handthrough his hair. “Truth is, I can’t stopthinking about her.”

“You slept with her. I knew it!” Evashouted, jumping up and down on the bed.The movement caused the agony in his armto flare.

“Yes,” Oliver confessed as heaverted his gaze. “But it’s more than sex. Ithink I’ve developed feelings for her.”

Taking both of his hands betweenhers, she forced Oliver to stare into hereyes. The depth of her sincerity apparentwith each gentle stroke of her fingers overthe palm of his hand. “If that’s the case,you must go to her. Tell her how youfeel.”

“What do you mean? Where is she?”

Oliver asked as if perplexed.“She’s gone. She left for Paris on

Andreas’ private jet a few hours afterAdam took Gaucher into custody.” Thistime, the pity reflected in her dark browneyes made Oliver want to shrink away andhide.

“Speaking of Gaucher, where is thebastard?” Oliver said, seamlesslychanging the subject.

“Currently still alive. The coven’sboard of trustees is convening early nextweek to decide his fate. I’m pretty surehe’s gonna fry.”

“Thanks for the update.” Oliversqueezed her hand, then pulled away.“Now if you’ll excuse me, my dear. Mybladder’s full and I need to change thedressing on my wound.”

With a simple nod of the head, Evapivoted on her heels and left him in peace.While he’d missed his best friend likecrazy, he preferred to be alone. He neededto think. There were a host of details hehad to work out in his head.

First and foremost, he had to cometo grips with the fact that not all vampireswere ruthless pricks. Over the last fewmonths, he’d seen countless examples ofselfless sacrifice on their part. Andreashad been the instigator of the bunch. Butfollowing in his illustrious footsteps,Bobby and Anaïs had made him stand upand take notice. There were bloodsuckersroaming the streets of New York City thatweren’t half bad. In fact, they’d foughtagainst their own kind when push came toshove.

Then there was Anaïs. She’d turnedout to be something rare and special. Heenjoyed her witty sense of humor and thatsassy swagger she possessed. Yet deepdown, Oliver knew it was all a cover. Away for her to keep people from gettingtoo close. In that regard, they were a lotalike. The only difference, the methodwith which they’d employed.

While Oliver delved into his workas a strategic planner, ordering his troopsto carry out missions that helped toabolish vampires and similar creaturesfrom the streets, Anaïs had embraced thedark, seedier side of life. However, bothhad done so in an effort to escape from afar worse fate. She’d relished the idea ofjoining the ranks of the undead so shecould run away from her father’s earth-

shattering betrayal. Later, she soughtrevenge by murdering similar men who nodoubt deserved their death sentence.

Oliver, on the other hand,substituted fear and insecurity, withvengeance and hate. His misguided viewof the supernatural had been born from hisfamily’s horrific experience at the handsof Adolf Hitler, a madman not muchdifferent from the one the vampire covenhad recently locked up. If nothing else, thelast few weeks had taught him tounderstand that the world was filled withboth bad and good. Not all things werenecessarily black and white. There werecreatures like Anaïs who blurred the linesof right and wrong and appeared inmiraculous shades of grey.

Oliver had no way to tell which

side of good and evil the bloodsuckershe’d already sent to the afterlife hadstood. The only solace he regarded wasthe fact that from that day forward, he’dthink twice before staking a vampire in thechest. By killing them without just cause,he’d be as guilty as any ruthless murderer.

The truth of his existence weighedheavy on Oliver’s heart. The one path heknew to begin the long, arduous process ofrepenting for his sins would be to fly toParis and make amends with Anaïs. Ifneed be, he’d get down on his knees andbeg for her forgiveness.

Chapter Sixteen

From Paris, With Love

Anaïs sat beside to the second storywindow of her Parisian flat, overlookingthe picturesque River Seine. The sun wasstill descending and it cast a sublimeshadow over the water’s edge. Shewatched as a boat or two drifted by, thenclosed her eyes and inhaled the aromaticfloral scent that washed over her senses.Once her lashes fluttered back up, tearsswam in the depths of her clouded stare.

She rubbed the indentation at the side ofher buttocks, which suddenly itched. Itwas the spot where her purple and goldtattoo wound down the crevice toward theentrance to her womb. That same fragrantwildflower grew in the six-by-two inchbox perched on the rail of her balcony.

Memories of Oliver and the shorttime they’d spent together came to her inflashbacks like an impossible fantasy thathad somehow been fulfilled. Her heartbeatquickened at the thought of the bitter sweetrecollection. Oh how her fingers itchedwith the need to reach out and touch him.But the man was thousands of miles away.Unfortunately, Anaïs left, deserting him asshe had all the rest.

Two weeks had passed and now itwas pointless to take a step back. Even if

she did, there’d be no guarantee he’dwelcome her with open arms. After all,Anaïs lived as a vampire and he, hersworn enemy. A relationship between thetwo of them would never withstand thetest of time.

Too bad. It seemed love came toolittle, too late.

Yes, Anaïs spoke the truth.Somewhere along the way, she’d let heremotions get the best of her and fallen forOliver. His gruff, protective exterior hadbroken down her barriers, inexplicablylodging the human in her heart. But sheknew it would never last. She didn’t wantto make the effort. While Anaïs admiredAndreas and Eva and their unborn childfor fighting against the odds, there wasn’ta chance in hell she’d survive the same

kind of struggle. It’d be like banging herhead on a wall over and over again.

Instead, Anaïs locked herself in herone room flat, sequestered away from therest of the world. The only time she leftthe comfort of the black velvet couch inwhich she sat was to find sustenance orprovide instruction for the three futureprima ballerinas she’d brought under hermaster tutelage.

However, Anaïs did have onepastime. She was a people watcher. Whileshe rarely ventured outdoors, she enjoyedobserving the unique eccentricities ofthose who walked below her window. Ona bridge by the river’s edge, a mime stoodon a platform posing for photographs andsoliciting tips by virtue of his widebrimmed hat. A few feet away, a homeless

woman with a tattered black trench coatpushed a shopping cart that stored herentire life’s worth.

Behind them both, a handsomefellow with partly-shaved salt and pepperhair strolled by, scanning the sides of thebuildings as if in search of a specificaddress. He reminded her of GeorgeClooney, the good looking American actorshe’d coveted for years from afar. Theman turned suddenly, then ascended thestairwell that led to a nearby apartment.An awning below prohibited her fromfollowing the exact route the man hadtaken.

Then a knock sounded at her door.Anaïs’s eyes shot open and her pulsebegan to race. Could it possibly be? HadOliver traveled halfway across the globe

to capture her heart? She stood abruptly,her knees almost buckling underneath her.She held onto the furniture on the way tothe door, propping her body up to keepfrom toppling over. Anaïs held her breathas she pulled on the knob, afraid to jinxherself. When she saw Oliver on the otherside of the threshold, her voicemomentarily caught in her throat and shewas unable to speak.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”Oliver asked with a heart stopping grin.

“Of course,” Anaïs managed to sayas she took a step back to allow him toenter her flat. “But what are you doing inParis?”

Without warning, Oliver grabbedher around the waist and yanked her intothe ridge of his hip. His partial erection

wedged right below her navel. Theproximity to her pussy made her bodyshutter and quake. “I’m here to claimwhat’s rightfully mine. It’d be easier ifyou surrendered willingly, but if not, it’llhave to be by force.”

Before Anaïs could respond, hislips descended upon hers, demanding totalsubmission. The salty, sweet flavor of histongue swirled around in her mouth as hearched her backward, then led her downto lie on the settee. Oliver snatched upboth her wrists, and held them suspendedabove her head. The rough grip he had onher would no doubt cause bruises to form.

For a brief moment, Anaïs managedto pull away. “Do you mind if we try thisthe more traditional way for once? Nowhips or chains. I’ve had enough

excitement these last few weeks to last alifetime.”

“On the contrary, my love. Thingsare just starting to heat up. But I promise,I’ll go easy on you.” Oliver untied the redsilk robe she wore and let it fall to thefloor. Underneath, she was completelybare. He ran the palms of his hands overthe tender flesh of her breasts. TakingAnaïs’s nipple in one hand, he rolled theplumpness between his thumb and indexfinger until it sprang to life. At the sametime, he worshiped the other nipple bybiting the tip with his teeth.

Anaïs groaned at the suction fromhis mouth. It made her clitoris throb andher insides clench. Then, Oliver let hishands wander, skimming the sensitive skinof her belly until he reached the neatly-

trimmed bundle of curls at the apex of hersex. His thumb caressed her engorged nubcontinuing further down in order to parther moist folds.

Anaïs took hold of her lover, fistingher hands in his shirt. She fumbled with itsbuttons for several minutes, then wretchedthe material from his broad shoulders.Finally, she felt the smoothness of hisnaked flesh against her fingertips, tracingthe angular ridges of his muscular frame.

“Remove your pants, Oliver.Please.” Anaïs said, pure lust reflected inher beautiful amber gaze. “I’m dying totaste you again.”

Slow and deliberate, Oliver startedto undo his belt. But Anaïs provedimpatient. She jerked on the cinch, thenpulled the trousers to his ankles. The

vampire sank to her knees, taking the headof his cock into her mouth. She loweredher lips over the length of his shaft, andwaited for it to graze the base of herthroat. Anaïs cupped his ass as she movedup and down over his thick ridges.

Suddenly, Oliver reared back,retreating from the shelter of her warmheat. “Stop. I don’t want to come. Notyet.” He picked Anaïs up and draped herover the luxurious settee. He pushed openher wobbly thighs, then settled betweenher legs. His cock hovered at the entranceto her womb, sending minute twinges ofdesire shooting through her from head tofoot.

“Go ahead, Oliver. Fuck me.Oliver chuckled, but pivoted his

hips as he did. The tip of his shaft dipped

inside, coating the pulsing organ with herfree-flowing nectar. At the moment ofpenetration, Anaïs screamed in pleasure.It felt so damn good, she nearly melted inhis arms. The vampire grabbed hold of hisshoulders, dug her razor sharp nails intohis malleable flesh, and then held on forthe ride.

Right when she thought she wouldcome, Oliver bucked up off the couch andflipped over onto his back. With Anaïsstraddling his waist, he took hold of hipsand forced her to move at the pace that heset. Yet the vampire wouldn’t be oneupped. She shifted her weight, grindingher clit against his throbbing erection. Thefast tempo they kept made Oliver’s ballsslap hard against skin. No doubt thefeminine juices that drizzled down the

slope of his rear helped lessen theinevitable sting.

“Oh God! Here it comes.” Herhuman lover growled like a beast betweenhis clenched teeth.

Hot and potently powerful, Oliver’ssemen spewed inside her spasming flesh.A split second later, Anaïs shattered into amillion little pieces. Her pussy tightenedaround the base of his cock. She screamedsomething fierce, then crumpled over ontohis chest. Breath escaped from her lungsin short, distorted gasps.

Before she could protest, Oliveronce more cut a small slit above hispectoral muscle. Then, he placed a dropof blood on his lover’s lip, enticing her todrink. She found his flavor impossible toresist and guzzled until she was full.

After Anaïs had finished, shepropped herself up on her elbows andstared at Oliver. He had a cheerful, well-sated expression on his face. “Why’d youdo that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He said, cockinghis head to the side as if perturbed. “It’smy job to see to my woman’s needs. Infact, I’d prefer if you didn’t feed fromother men.”

“So now I’m your woman?”“You sure as hell are! And if you

don’t hop in the shower and get dressed,I’ll have to drag you out of here like acaveman. Now hurry, we’ve got a plane tocatch.”

Anaïs sat back on her knees andcrossed her arms over her breasts. Hereyebrows furrowed and her body

stiffened. But her rigid stature had nothingto do with anger or fear; it was doubt. Thenagging feeling of insecurity a personmight get watching dreams teeter on theedge of reality.

“Are you serious? How can you beso sure it will work? There are so manyobstacles to overcome.” It was true. Therewere countless details that had to befigured out. What would she do with herapartment and the dance studio below?And those were just the insignificantfactors to consider.

Relationships were tough enough fortwo people of the same species. Howwould her friends, notably those of thevampire persuasion, react once they hearthe news that she’d shacked up with ahuman? The counsel general of the BPA,

no less.“Anaïs,” Oliver said, reaching up to

caress her cheek. “I love you. Withwhatever time I have left on earth, I’ll domy best to show you just how much. Idon’t care what other people think.”

Lord help me! I’ve fallen in lovewith a madman. Anaïs mumbled the wordsusing her silent, inner voice. Immediately,Oliver’s eyes darted from left to right. Hescratched his chin suspiciously, a habitshe’d grown accustom to seeing. Nodoubt, he’d monitored the banter insideher head.

“Did you hear that voice? I must begoing crazy.” His sarcasm obvious as hegingerly rolled Anaïs over onto her back,then crushed his body over hers. Pinnedagainst the cushions of the settee, he

showered his soul mate with sweet,passionate kisses. “As soon as we getback to New York, you’ll have to tie meup and confine me to the nearest bed.”

The End

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